


Sometimes All Just Isn't Enough

by ravendas



Series: All or Nothing: The Tales of a Smuggler and a Spy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Dark Past, Denial of Feelings, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Partner Betrayal, Slavery, Unrequited Love, Water Sex, Yes My Smuggler Has a Relationship With Her Ship, it's purely platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 23:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravendas/pseuds/ravendas
Summary: T'Lara Kryn thought she finally had it all. She had discovered the lost riches of Nok Drayen, defeated the VoidWolf and become one of the most powerful and prosperous underworld bosses in the galaxy. She had all the luxury and pleasures credits could buy. So, why did she still feel so damn...empty? And why did it take meeting a certain SIS agent to make her realize this?(Follows from Forged Alliances into Knights of the Fallen Empire and beyond, with flashbacks to the vanilla story.)Comments and kudos always welcomed!





	1. Nar Shaddaa Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron Shan is sent to investigate the infamous VoidHound, but things don't turn out as planned...for either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a complete rewrite of what was once known as "Musings in Nar Shaddaa". I honestly was never satisfied with how that chapter was written and had planned to make changes at some point. I woke up this morning with a whole different approach to it and this is what came about.  
> Obviously, I'm also having to make a few minor changes to subsequent chapters to accommodate the changes in this one. So, if something in the following chapters doesn't quite jive up, please be patient, I'm working on finding and fixing any inconsistencies.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and obviously, this goes a bit against canon in that Theron meets T'Lara before he sends the message to meet with Colonel Darok at the Fleet. I figure Darok would send him out to reconnoiter their potential "recruits" for the mission before deciding who to choose.

The party was in full swing when SIS agent Theron Shan walked through the door. The riff-raff of every species seemed to be represented here tonight and the din of several different languages almost drowned out the thumping bass of the music playing in the background.

The heavily-armored red-skinned Zabrak lounging at the entrance eyed him for a moment, a scowl on her angular features as she made a beckoning gesture to him, “No weapons.”

Theron merely shrugged and tossed her a lopsided smile as he handed over the holdout blaster tucked in his boot. However, her scowl did not fade, “ _All_ of them.” Her gaze pointedly fixed upon his wrists where his customized dart-firing bracers were hidden beneath the sleeves of his jacket.

 _She either has x-ray vision or a scanner hidden somewhere_ , Theron mused as he slid the bracers from his wrists and reluctantly handed them over to her. The zabrak merely sneered back at him as she tucked his weaponry into a lockbox then gestured him inside.

He could feel her gaze following him and a third possibility entered his mind, _Or they already know who I am._ The thought didn’t set well with him, but it wouldn’t be the first op he’d been in where his cover was blown before he even walked in. _If that’s the case, they must not see me as a threat...or have a trap waiting._

Thankfully, every report he’d fielded about this particular crime boss implied that she didn’t tend towards unnecessary violence or cruelty. Every other field agent that had been discovered infiltrating her parties…both Republic and Imperial…had merely been escorted from the premises (usually in some state of undress). The fact that she apparently had them identified from the very beginning, allowed them entry and then let them leave unharmed implied that she was confident enough in her power to not see them as a threat.

 _More like over-confident. Toying with agents from both sides like that is a recipe for eventual disaster_ , he mused as he made his way through the throngs of smugglers, spice dealers, slavers, and mercenaries filling nearly every room of the spacious Nar Shaddaa sky palace.

\--------------

T’Lara Kryn was bored. Despite the variety of exotic food, drinks and people available to her, it all just looked the same as nearly every other party she had ever thrown. Even after downing more than a few of said exotic drinks, she found herself even more bored of it all. “Retiring” from being a smuggler and former Republic privateer to heading one of the largest conglomerations of illicit gangs wasn’t nearly as rewarding as she had thought it would be. _Too much paperwork and too little fun. I miss getting into all kinds of crazy trouble with my crew._

Just when she was about to call it a night, Risha strolled by casually and murmured, “New guy’s here”, as she passed.

A grin tugged at the Mirialan’s lips as her crimson eyes swept the gathered crowd. _Maybe this night won’t be so boring after all._ Placing her empty glass upon the bar, she pushed away from it and began mingling with the crowd.

A few minutes later, she spotted him. He was obviously trying to blend in, but after so many infiltration attempts over the past year, T’Lara knew what to look for. He looked slightly older than her…perhaps late 20’s, early 30s…with brown hair swept up in a spiky crest, slightly tanned skin and hazel eyes that looked as though he got little sleep. Framing his left eye was a cybernetic implant of some sort. _Good thing we stopped using comms to communicate during these things after the last time. He no doubt would have tried to listen in._ He seemed of average height and build, though it was difficult to tell beneath the boxy red and black jacket he wore. _Nice ass, though_ , she mused wickedly as her gaze skimmed over the tight brown pants he wore tucked into high black boots.

She pointedly avoided his sweeping gaze as he surveyed the crowd. She didn’t want him to notice her…not yet. _Let’s see what you do when you think you’re not being watched, agent._

\-------------------

Theron circulated through the crowd, casting surreptitious glances through the etched glass doors of each room he passed by. One was obviously some sort of armory, another a medical bay. He took a fraction of a second longer to scan the interior of what was no doubt her quarters, noting the computer console against one wall.

Descending a wide, curved staircase lined with banners from various planets, he emerged into what was essentially a private cantina. Music blasted from a jukebox in the corner, providing a thumping rhythm for the various dancers scattered about the vast area. A large circular bar dominated the other side of the room, with a smaller one near the door he had just emerged from.

“Corellian whiskey, neat”, he tossed over his shoulder to the Twi’lek bartender as he leaned against the bar, silently scanning the crowd. The hostess of this particular shindig was nowhere to be seen, but he had no need to run into her just yet.

His gaze was drawn towards a set of large double doors as they slid open, admitting a Wookie and young dark-haired human male into the fray. From his briefing, Theron surmised these two to be members of the Mirialin’s crew. The pair passed him by without remark, both talking animatedly to each other as they headed out to the balcony.

Theron slammed down the whiskey, feeling it burn a smooth path down his throat, then casually ambled towards the double doors the pair had emerged from. The doorway was slightly sunken from the rest of the room, so by the time he was close enough to be able to see through the frosted doors, they slid open with a soft hiss to admit him.

Beyond lay what appeared to be crew quarters, twin sets of bunks flanking each side of the room with a large table dominating the center. Various propaganda posters from both factions adorned the walls and the couches scattered about looked comfortable and well-worn. Unfortunately, there was no computer terminal handy, but Theron’s gaze was drawn to another set of doors on the opposite side of the room.

Peering through them, it was obvious what lay beyond was the heart of the smuggler’s operation. Crates of various sizes and shapes lined the walls, scattered with racks of weaponry…ranging from rifles and grenades to bombs, and other random items, from speeders to statuary.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he slipped through the door into the vast warehouse. He hadn’t taken two steps inside before a female voice snapped sharply, “Hey! You don’t belong in here!”

Glaring at him from around a rather large plant that had partially concealed the desk off to his right was a slender brown-haired human woman. Theron racked his brain for a moment before recalling her as another member of the smuggler’s crew: Risha.

Feigning drunkenness, he threw her a lopsided smile and swaggered a bit, slurring his words as he began backing out the door, “Sorr-ry…was looking for…for the refresher.”

A smirk tugged at her lips as she hitched a thumb back towards to main room. “Back up the stairs and to your right.”

“Thhannks!”, he mumbled over his shoulder as he made his way back through the door.

\-------------------

T’Lara grinned as Bowdaar finished updating her through a series of growls and yelps in Shyriiwook. “I swear, these agents are so predictable. He’s going to go for the terminal in my bedroom next, I’d bet my last credit on it.”

Corso barely restrained a groan at that. He knew where _that_ always led: the agent ends up in her bedroom, she seduces them, then has Akaavi toss them out when she’s done. It was her preferred method of dealing with spies.

 _“Either I sweet-talk them out of reporting everything to their people, or they’re too humiliated to admit they were conned by me. It works out, I don’t have to kill anyone or even do anything illegal they can try to pin on me.”_ She had explained it to him, but that didn’t make it any easier for the Mantellian to swallow. He still maintained that she deserved better than to waste her nights with these meaningless flings.

“Better” meaning him, of course, but she had disavowed him of that notion completely after their trip to Voss. She had opted to spend the night with their Voss envoy…who was married, no less…and something inside of him had finally snapped. He’d flung harsh accusations at her and, since then, they had gone from being friends-with-occasional-benefits to barely-amicable crewmates.

T’Lara ignored Corso’s pained expression and glanced at the chronometer set behind the expansive balcony bar, “I’ll give him…20 minutes. Varth’Nar! Another Andoan red!”, she called out to the bare-chested Twi’lek bartender who hurried to fulfil her order.

\-----------------

Theron glanced at the door for what was probably the hundredth time since he had started the data spike running. He had managed to slip into the smuggler’s quarters undetected, as far as he knew, but he couldn’t help but suspect this was all just some sort of elaborate trap.

While he waited, he couldn’t help but admire her taste in décor. For some reason, he had expected something less…classy. But her quarters were simply and elegantly furnished with unique pieces from across the galaxy…from intricately-carved wooden shelving that appeared to be Voss, to a tall antique reliquary vase, a rather large glowing Adegan crystal, and various exotic plants. He pointedly kept his gaze away from the expansive bed, not wanting to entertain the thought of how many previous agents had made use of it.

Just as the spike had finished its download, the door opened with a hiss, admitting the rather infamous VoidHound. He had only just begun to try and quickly palm it before she noticed, but she merely chuckled and gestured to him dismissively.

“Go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you. There’s nothing on there that’s different from what the last few agents managed to get.”

Theron fixed her with a pinched scowl, “They got several tetrabytes of Houk porn.” He couldn’t help but shudder visibly at the memory of reviewing _that_ particular data file. “And a few hundred recipes for Hutt delicacies.”

“Which is exactly what you just went through all of this trouble to get”, she replied with a self-satisfied smirk. “You people are so predictable.” She crossed the room to circle him like a manka cat stalking prey, “Let me guess….SIS?”

“Lucky guess”, he watched her from the corner of his eye.

“Well, you’re lacking the posh accent. And you just have the whole ‘nice guy’ vibe to you. Imperial agents have more…edge.” The last was breathed softly against his neck, causing a prickling along his spine.

“If you say so.” Turning to face her, he sized her up for a moment. She was quite lovely…he could see how she could so easily seduce whatever man she desired. Her skin was a soft emerald green, with the distinctive geometric tattoos following the curves of her cheekbones, bisecting her forehead and chin, her black hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Her athletic form was clad in a cropped red leather jacket, opened to reveal a matching red bandeau tied between her breasts, and form-fitting black leather pants tucked into matching boots.

Noticing his silent appraisal, she smiled seductively, but he waved her off with a sharp gesture, “To be honest, I’m not here for information. Well, not the sort that I would glean from your computers anyway. The Republic has an upcoming mission that needs someone of your skills. I was tasked to determine if you would be a good fit for the job.”

Undeterred, her smile grew, a wicked sparkle in her eyes, “Oh, I’d be more than happy to show you my skills. I think we’d definitely be a…good fit.”

Theron scowled and took an involuntary step back. He was only human, so he couldn’t help but be slightly tempted at the offer. _Focus, Shan…you don’t want to become yet another in-office joke._ “I think I’ve already seen enough, but thanks for the offer. We’ll be in contact.” With that, he strode from the room and made his way quickly back to the speeder pad, silently hoping that he could manage to restrain the flush rising up his neck until he was well away from the place.

\----------------

“You’re losing your touch, T’Lara”, Akaavi stated simply as they both watched Theron’s speeder recede into the Nar Shaddaa night sky.

“Oh…we’ll see about that”, she replied with a sly grin. “I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him…”


	2. Post-Action Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief drabble of a conversation between Colonel Darok and Theron Shan, leading into the Forged Alliances storyline...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of Chapter 1a...just a little filler after my updated chapter one.

“Did you get it?”

Theron Shan tossed a bemused smirk at Colonel Darok as he strode into his office, “Of course. Was there ever any doubt?”

“Well, considering how many agents have already tried…” The hulking bald officer caught the data spike deftly as it was tossed to him.

“If the Director had sent me in the first place, we would have already had the information. And no one would have had to run back to their safe house in their skivvies.” Theron leaned against the desk, arms crossed.

Darok turned to the terminal behind him and began downloading the information, “Yeah, that’s why I knew you were the man for the job, Theron. Best hacker in the SIS and most adept at avoiding the charms of a pretty woman.”

Theron merely shrugged, “Hey, under any other circumstances, I might have been a little tempted, but this was a job. I wasn’t about to let her charm me out of doing what needed to be done.”

Darok spun in his chair, fixing Theron with an intent look, “So, in that regard…what was your assessment?”

Theron pushed from the desk and began pacing, “Well, she’s confident…actually over-confident to a fault. She was so sure that I was just like every other agent who had walked through her door. She lets them in and allows them to access her data, then relies on her wiles to get out of any sticky situation.”

“You’ve read her dossier”, Darok commented, pulling it up on the screen as he spoke.

“Yeah, she’s talented, there’s no doubt about that. Went from being a two-bit smuggler to taking down the VoidWolf himself _and_ uncovering an Imperial spy.”

“Not to mention, not only did she take down the VoidWolf, but she also managed to inherit all of his underworld connections and recruited his entire pirate fleet…”

“Which she turned on both the Imperial and Republic ships for her own gain, don’t forget.” Theron shook his head, scowling. “She’s no friend of the Republic. Why would she even want to work for us? And, maybe more importantly, why would we even _want_ her working for us?”

Darok shrugged, “First question’s easy: credits. Same reason she agreed to become a Republic privateer. Dangle enough credits in her face and she’ll bite. Or, if she’s outgrown needing them these days, I’m sure we can come up with some suitable incentives.”

Theron crossed his arms, scowling with obvious skepticism, “And why we even need someone like her…?”

“She’s outside the chain of command…outside all the bureaucracy of the Senate, military and Jedi Council. We need someone not tied down to any of that. Someone who can think outside the box to help us accomplish our goals.”

“Which are…?”

Darok merely smirked, “You’ll see. Trust me, it will be worth it all.”

“If you say so”, Theron shrugged, “I’ll get T3-G2 to contact her. We’ll see if she’s even interested.” He tossed over his shoulder as he departed the room.

“It’s your job to make sure she is, Theron.” Darok called to his retreating back.

_I have a very bad feeling about this._


	3. Of Dubious Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loyal agent of the Republic and a promiscuous boss of the criminal underworld...there couldn't be a stranger pairing. But what happens when they start feeling something previously unknown to them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during their fade-to-black before leaving Yavin 4.  
> I'm really enjoying exploring their relationship and can't wait to write more as I make my way with them through KotFE/ET and beyond.

“Just as I thought: good at everything….”

As those words were murmured contentedly in her ear, T’Lara released a shaky breath, eyes closing as she basked in the afterglow of probably the most incredible sex she had ever experienced. She felt arms encircling her as she nestled against warm flesh that was also heaving breathlessly against her cheek. Unexpectedly, a grip closed upon her own chest, forcing a choked noise from her lips. Fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her gaze up to the concerned look contained in the hazel eyes of SIS agent, Theron Shan.

“Are you….crying?” Curiosity and worry threaded through his voice, still husky from their exertions.

She blinked confusedly, touching her cheek cautiously to encounter dampness upon her fingertips. “I…” The erstwhile smuggler and criminal underworld boss found that she didn’t have words for what she was feeling right now. It was all too complicated to even ponder. She’d been with men of all types and species in her travels across the galaxy, but none of them had ever made her feel like this. It wasn’t even the sex…though that had been amazing…but this sort of profound _connection_ she felt with Theron.

“Are you okay? Was it something I did?” She turned her gaze away as he ran his fingers through her night-black hair, now freed from its usual ponytail and tousled about her shoulders. Again, she couldn’t find the right words, so she instinctively tried to deflect with humor.

“Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

She heard him release a faintly amused huff and could feel rather than see his skeptic half-smile, “You still didn’t answer my question, you know.”

Exhaling a weary sigh, she shifted against him, trying to find a comfortable position on the synthleather seats now that the afterglow was beginning to fade. After their battle with Revan, they had opted to take shelter from the Yavin 4 rainstorm beneath the wing of the shuttle that had brought them back from the Temple of Sacrifice. There his nonchalant assessment of her skills were met with her teasing reply of “I’m just good at everything”….which led into “Everything? Well, I did have one last thing in mind…if you think you can keep up”. Unable to resist the invitation in his eyes, she had pulled him eagerly into the shuttle where they had proceeded to make love with the simple, intense desperation of two people who knew their time together was about to come to an end.

She felt her throat tighten again at the thought and swallowed a few times before settling into his embrace and hesitantly tried to explain a feeling she did not even really understand.

“Well, I know you’re already pretty aware of my…reputation.” She chuckled briefly, trying to bring some sort of levity to the situation, “It’s not like I didn’t already try to add you to my list of ‘SIS agents I’ve slept with’ once before.”

“Yeah….I had the distinguished honor of being the only agent sent to watch you who wasn’t forced to duck through the alleyways of Nar Shaddaa, wearing only their underwear.” His voice dropped to a faint mumble, “Not that it would have been the first time something like that had happened to me….” He released a somewhat embarrassed cough as T’Lara’s brows raised with obvious interest, “Anyway….continue….I won’t let you get diverted from what you were saying by my own embarrassing exploits.”

Curiosity piqued, she flashed him an amused smirk, “That is a tale you will have to tell me at some point. But fine…” T’Lara closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of his arms around her…and hoping this would not be the last time she felt them.

“I’ve never been someone to get tied down…to anyone or anything. Sex for me was….recreational…a diversion to provide some momentary pleasure. No strings, no attachment….just a roll in the sack and move on.” She paused to take a deep breath, gauging his reaction.

There was a sort of ironic melancholy in his eyes as he idly trailed his fingers along her arm, “Hey, as you said, I already knew this. Obviously it wasn’t a deterrent or I wouldn’t be here.”

T’Lara felt a flush rising to her cheeks, coloring her emerald skin a deeper olive, “And…I’m honestly surprised you are. You turned me down pretty bluntly the last time. Though I really wasn’t all that surprised you did, I guess. You didn’t seem the type to do it just for the ‘I Slept with the VoidHound sticker’, so I don’t really see….why someone like you would…want someone like me.”

Theron emitted a gasp of mock-surprise, “There’s a sticker? Do I get one?” T’Lara couldn’t help but burst into laughter and punched him playfully on the shoulder, her reply stopped short of her lips as his tone took a serious turn and he turned her chin up to meet his intent gaze with her own ruby-colored eyes, “What ‘someone like you’ is, is a beautiful, skilled, intelligent woman who….as a bonus…just helped save the galaxy.”

She visibly flinched, darting her eyes away, “You make it sound as though I did it out of the goodness of my heart…or some loyalty to the Republic. I…I’m not that person. I did it out of self-preservation…and for the shipload of credits your mot…Master Shan offered. I’ve never cared one way or the other about either the Republic or Empire…or even the war except when it came to how much money I could make off of it. As long as it paid well and I was left alone…aside from the occasional party-crasher…I didn’t care. And hells, under any other circumstances, you’d probably be the one having me shipped off to Belsavis. Stars know I’ve done worse things than at least half the people there.”

Theron settled back on the seat, studying her thoughtfully for a long moment before offering quietly, “I’ve noticed that you’re saying all of this in past tense. That sex _was_ purely recreational….that you _didn’t_ care about anything but the credits. It sounds as though you might be thinking that that’s not the case anymore…?”

She tossed him a half-annoyed, half-hurt glance before extricating herself from his embrace to begin pacing the metal deckplates, “Damn you and your SIS training!” There was no malice in her words, just the sense that he had seen something about her she did not want him to. Which was exactly the case: she didn’t know exactly what she was feeling for him, but she knew it was something unlike anything she had ever felt for anyone before. _Is this what falling in love feels like? Is this what Corso feels towards me? Stars…no wonder he’s such a mess._ She couldn’t help but feel a newfound pity for the Mantellian boy who had pined after her from the first day they met…only to be rebuffed time and again. How in the galaxy could she tell Theron how she felt without coming off as desperately pathetic as Corso always did to her? Her mind was awhirl as she continued to pace restlessly, completely oblivious to the fact that she was still completely naked.

Theron merely sat quietly, letting her work it out….while attempting to keep his features schooled in a semblance of nonchalance at the sight of her naked body pacing before him. After a few moments, he reached out to catch her hand in his and gently tugged her back down to the seat beside him with a crooked smile of amusement, “That’s getting distracting, you know.”

She mumbled out a “Sorry” as she felt him give her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Listen, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I totally understand about…well….not being all that great with relationships. This is kind of new for me too: the whole “getting close to someone” thing.” He shrugged casually, “Haven’t had much of a reason or desire to, to be honest.”

T’Lara flashed him a mischievous smile, eyes glinting playfully, as she curled up against him to run a fingertip teasingly along his jaw, “Then I came along and you just couldn’t resist my charms…”

“Something like that”, he replied with a chuckle, taking her hand to briefly kiss her fingers, “We should probably get dressed before they send out a search party for us.”

T’Lara began gathering their discarded clothing from where it had been tossed upon the floor…the seats…the console…with a chuckle, “Can’t have Grand Master Mom walking in on her boy all buck naked and entangled with some crazy smuggler, you know.”

“I don’t even want to imagine that, ugh….thanks”, Theron grumbled, throwing her a mildly-disgusted look as they both began tugging their clothes back on.

A few minutes later, they exited the shuttle, both wearing a certain acquired air of nonchalance…just in case of any potential observers nearby. Even as T’Lara started back towards the conference table where she knew the others were waiting, Theron caught her wrist in his grasp once more.

“Wait a second.” He seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts as she eyed him curiously, then continued, taking both her hands in his, “I know we’re going to have to go our separate ways after this. And I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. Or…well…even if you’d want to.” He waved her off as she started to protest, “Either way, I hope that we can keep in touch. And…if you want to…maybe we can see where things go.”

“You know my offer is always open if you ever want to ditch the SIS and join me in something more exciting. I think you’d make a fairly decent member of the criminal element.” She flashed him a teasing grin.

“Thanks…I think. And…well…you never know. If Saresh keeps up with this crazy nonsense of hers, that might actually become quite likely. But, until then….try to stay out of too much trouble, alright?” His voice dropped to a mock-conspiratorial murmur, “Can’t have my name being bantered around the SIS as yet another agent who was lured in by the VoidHound’s charms, after all.”

“Even if it is true?” She grinned, leaning in to press her lips to his in a clinging kiss before they turned to make their way through the jungle, back towards the conference area.

“Don’t forget, you still owe me a sticker”.


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things can be just too much to bear....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Ziost and immediately before the start of KotFE.

__

_Cold…why is it so cold?_

_Legs ache…whole body aches._

_Where am I?_

It all comes back in a rush: the gunfire, the screams. Voices urging her to hide, hands boosting her up into the vents. The horrible cacophony continues, echoing through the thin metal walls. She’s not sure what is worse: the sounds…or the silence that follows. Can they hear her breathing? Can they hear her trying so desperately not to cry? Minutes stretch into hours, her body growing stiff from the cold and the cramped space. She dare not move. What if they are still there? What if they hear her? Her stomach growls and it sounds like a starship engine in full burn to her in the silence.

_Please…please don’t hear that….please be gone…_

But what was worse? To be trapped here with murderous pirates ransacking the ship? Or to be utterly alone in this charnel house that she had once called home?

The air seemed thin, colder than usual. _They’ve cut the life support. No matter what else happens, I’m going to die here._ She closed her eyes and finally let herself cry. It didn’t matter now if they heard her. Maybe a blaster bolt to the head would be more merciful than slowly suffocating or freezing to death.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was happy. She was going to be an engineer. Maybe on one of the big Republic Corvette cruisers. Or maybe she could even learn to fly one. _Can’t do that now. Going to die alone. Moma, father…gone. And I just got my first tattoos. So proud I could show everyone that I really was good at fixing things._ Another sob caught in her throat, then was cut short as the ship shuddered. Fear raced through her for a moment, _Oh no, they’ve come back._

But a small voice…the one still aware that this was just a memory…just a dream….said, “No, you’re being rescued. It’s going to be alright.”

But then the ship shuddered again, and fear grew as an unnatural warmth flared around her and the air was filled with an ominous hissing. _No, it didn’t happen like this!_

Around her the ship was…unravelling. She tried to scream as she felt her body begin to dissipate into gray ash, but it clogged her throat and everything began to go black even as she lurched upward with a choked cry of sheer terror.

“Nooo…no no no!” Sobbing cries burbled from her lips as she clawed at her own skin, trying to fight off the effects of the dream. Hands took her wrists and shook her, a familiar voice cutting through the vestiges of the nightmare.

“Captain! Wake up! It’s just a dream!”

Slowly, reality reasserted itself into the concerned features of Corso Riggs hovering before her. The fog of sleep began to fade as she frowned in slight confusion, raking a hand through her now-tousled black hair. _Oh stars…I didn’t take him to bed last night did I?_ She couldn’t remember how many shots of Corellian whiskey she had downed last night. She’d lost count somewhere around five. She had thought that drinking herself into a stupor would keep the nightmares at bay, but it seemed that she had built up an immunity of some sort along the way because that was no longer working.

Her first mate, sometimes-friend and former lover sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, and there was no sign that he…or anyone else had shared her bed last night. _Not that anyone would want to these days_ , she mused sullenly, though breathing a faint sigh of relief. She was pretty sure they had firmly cemented that wall between them, but she could never be sure with Corso sometimes. He still, on occasion, would slip mentions of available farm land on Dantooine, “Just in case you ever want to settle down somewhere” into conversation. And she found more than one attempt at poetry left upon the ship’s console….or at the bar under her favorite bottle of Mirialan herb liquor. So who knows what might have transpired after several shots of hard liquor?

 _He never gives up….even after what happened between Theron and I on Yavin IV. Of course, he probably assumes he was just another one of my idle “flings”._ T’Lara released a weary sigh, dragging her senses back to the present, where Corso still sat silently on the edge of her bed.

“I’m fine, Corso. As you said, it was just a dream.”

“You…um…wanna talk about it?”

Part of her did, but she knew that once she started talking, she’d remember….again. After Ziost, she had gathered up what crew still wanted to follow her (which was, surprisingly, everyone….except Risha, who had to tend to her royal duties on Dubrillion), and took every odd job they could possibly find. Her original intent had been to finally semi-retire to her cozy little palace on Nar Shaddaa, but idleness only served to give her time to think…and remember. So she stayed as busy as possible to keep the nightmares a bay…but even working herself to exhaustion and slamming down whatever alcohol she could get her hands on didn’t help anymore.

With a sigh, she shook her head, “Not really. Just…old memories….and what happened on Ziost. And probably eating way too many protein packs and fast-noodles.” She tried to laugh it off, but the sound that emerged was more of a sob. “I should get dressed.”

“Oh…yeah….” T’Lara had managed to barely strip down to her underclothes before passing out, and Corso….being ever the gentleman that he strived to be, quickly averted his eyes, seemingly having noticed her state of undress for the first time. “Um…when you do, there’s a message for you on the holoterminal. Marked ‘Private’, so I don’t know who it’s from or what it’s about.”

 _A job, maybe? Or Theron?_ She hoped it was the latter. She had not heard from the erstwhile Republic agent but only a couple of times since they had parted after Ziost. He had eventually gotten his old job back at the SIS and it was apparently keeping him quite busy, but he did reassure her that their time spent together was not forgotten and that he kept her on his mind.

It was a nice thing to hear for T’Lara. The vast majority of her relationships had been essentially “one and done” flings where neither heard from the other ever again…nor usually wanted to. With Theron, she had actually worried that their encounter on Yavin IV would be the last they saw or heard from one another. When he called her from Ziost, rambling in a panic about possessions, the Emperor, and failed clearance codes, she had not even thought twice about rushing to aid him….even though she honestly wanted to stay as far from the newly-resurrected Emperor as she possibly could.

Sometimes she wondered if she should have stayed away. It was not her fight. She had no loyalty to the Republic aside from what they paid her for. And what had happened there…she could almost hate Theron for dragging her into the whole mess in the first place.

She had been perfectly content to sit back and enjoy her semi-retirement as the VoidHound. She’d built up enough credits from all her jobs….both as a “legitimate” Republic privateer and all the many no-so-legitimate ventures she had on the side…to live comfortably for quite some time. But, when the first call had come through from Theron….or his droid anyway…offering a nice sum of credits to assist with an attack on Korriban, she’d jumped at it. It hadn’t hurt that the man himself had not been too bad to look at, and rather charming in a no-nonsense, but awkward sort of way. She certainly hadn’t expected that the whole thing would end up with them chasing down a huge conspiracy to destroy the Republic and Empire, then witnessing the resurrection of the Sith Emperor, and his subsequent devouring of an entire planet. And even less expected for her…she started having feelings for the SIS agent.

Of course, now the feelings tended to swing between affection and outright detestation. Why did she allow herself to be swayed by the lure of easy credits and a handsome face? Because of him, she didn’t know if she’d ever get a good night’s sleep again…and not for the reasons she would greatly prefer. If she ever saw him again, she wasn’t sure if she’d kiss him or shoot him.

Shaking off the thoughts for now, she nodded to Corso with a mumbled, “Thanks.” He just tossed her a concerned half-smile and turned to leave the room.

T’Lara threw on some clothes, tamed her hair back into its usual ponytail and splashed some cold water on her face to try and remedy the utter exhaustion she seemed to perpetually wear these days. Settling into the chair at her desk, she accessed the holo and couldn’t help but give a start of surprise at the imposing masked figure that answered.

“Darth Marr?”

“Captain T’Lara Kryn….or should I say The VoidHound?” His voice reverberated through the speakers and T’Lara could almost feel the power of the Dark Side of the Force echoing through it.

“Call me whatever you want…just don’t call me late to the bar!” Even as the flat attempt at the joke left her lips, she groaned inwardly. _Did I just try to make a joke to a Dark Council member? This lack of sleep must have finally driven me insane._

The masked visage hid any expression the Dark Lord might have had, and his voice held no trace of amusement….or even acknowledgement that she had spoken, but merely went on in that same hollow metallic tone, “I am leading a joint strike force to hunt down the Emperor. We have discovered leads to Wild Space and, as you have proven yourself…capable…in the past, you are summoned to my flagship. Coordinates forthcoming.”

T’Lara blinked incredulously before finding her voice and shaking her head vehemently, “Oh no…..I am done with all of this! I didn’t want to get tangled up in this mess with _your_ Emperor in the first place! Count me out! Go find some Jedi or someone else who wants to be a big damn hero.”

“You misunderstand me, Captain”, the Sith Lord’s voice rumbled ominously, “this is not a request. You _will_ rendezvous at these coordinates within the next 12 hours of your own free will, or I will send as many of the Red Legion as necessary to drag you here. And I will make sure they know that they need not be gentle.”

She felt a shiver race down her spine at his threat, her crimson eyes narrowing in anger to attempt to mask the fear it engendered, “Fine. I will be there. But I will not be happy about it.” Without waiting for his reply, she smashed her fist into the console, cutting the transmission.

She sank her head into her hands and tried not to cry. She hadn’t allowed herself tears in….well, she couldn’t remember the last time she actually cried. She didn’t even cry as she watched the surface of Ziost dissolve into lifeless grey ash. She couldn’t….she had been too overwhelmed, too stunned at the sight to even process it. That there was a being out there who could do _that_ …could annihilate an entire planet…the very thought terrified her as nothing else ever could. And now Marr wanted her to help him hunt it down?!

 _I’m going to die._ She suddenly felt the same resigned hopelessness that had swept over her in her dream…and had been her reality 15 years ago on board a Mirialan freighter.

Taking a deep breath, she flipped on the intercom to the bridge, “Corso, I’m sending you coordinates. Get us there….quickly.” She didn’t even wait for his response and rose from her desk to rummage in her locker. Her fingers found the bottle of Mirialan herb liquor she had stashed away. Guss had taken a liking to it, so she began hiding a few bottles so she didn’t have to worry about him drinking it all. She pondered procuring a glass from the galley, but decided against it, not wanting to run into any of the crew in her current mental state. Uncorking the bottle, she took a long swig, reveling in the herbal sweetness as it spread a pleasant warmth through her limbs.

 _A few more swigs of this and I might actually be ready to face the Emperor._ Even as she started to down another long draught of the liquor, the holo beeped again. “That had better not be Marr again”, she grumbled irritably, reaching over to stab the button with her free hand.

“Well, speak of the devil….”, she addressed the flickering image of Theron Shan with wry amusement.

“And hello to you too, Captain”, he replied, causing T’Lara to flinch slightly at the title. She hated it when he called her that. She didn’t know why…or maybe she did…the way her name rolled off his tongue was…well, it brought back some very nice memories. “Should my ears be burning?”

“Maybe…was just thinking about you. And…..did you get a call from Marr?!” She couldn’t help but to spit out the last accusingly. She had this sneaking feeling Theron might have been the one who put Marr up to “inviting” her to this little Emperor hunt.

“Yeah…he hit you up too?” Before she could respond, he continued, “Of course he did. I was hoping he’d leave you out of all this, but I guess not. Not after everything you did on Yavin…” His brows furrowed in worry, “He’s not….?”

“Wanting me to meet up with him in the middle of Wild Space so that we can go hunt down the emperor who _just devoured an entire planet?!_ ” Her voice rose with undisguised hysteria, “Yes! As a matter of fact, he did! Not only that, it wasn’t an ‘invitation’ or a ‘request’….he threatened to send Sith assassins after me to ‘drag me there’ when I tried to turn him down! Don’t tell me he didn’t do the same to you!?”

Theron looked seriously alarmed at her level of agitation and replied somewhat-sheepishly, “Well, no….he ‘requested’ that I work with Lana….again…to try and dig up anything…and anyone…we could to figure out how to fight him if and when we do find him. I didn’t say no…but I get the feeling that he probably would have had a similar ultimatum if I had.”

“Wonderful”, T’Lara grumbled, taking another long drink from the bottle, ignoring Theron’s look of growing concern. “So you get to stay behind…with Lana…", she fought unsuccessfully to keep the jealousy from her voice at the Sith woman's name, "and sort through data. While I get to be the one to hunt down some world-devourer. Just great. Having you there would have at least made this semi-tolerable.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’ve done more of your share of beating impossible odds. I don’t doubt that you can do it again.”

She knew he was trying to reassure her, but his words only served to irritate her more, “And whose fault is it that I got thrown into those ‘impossible odds’ over and over again?! Korriban, Tython, Manaan, Rakata Prime, Rishi, Yavin", she ticked each planet's name off on her fingers, "all because I just couldn’t tell you ‘no’.” She doused the choking sob that threatened to emerge with another swig of the liquor.

Theron seemed to struggle to find words for a long moment before speaking quietly, “Listen, I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this. I really am. What you’ve been through….it’s more than any person should have to deal with. If I could change things…or make it up to you somehow, I would.”

T’Lara slowly regained a measure of control and released a faintly-ironic huff, “When…if…I get back…if I survive all of this….you owe me at least a week of your undivided attention. Dinners, dancing, bar-hopping, and lots of sex.” She emphasized each with a pointed jab of her finger at his holo chest.

“Deal.”

“You’re just saying that because you either a) figure I’m not going to live through this, or b) assume this is just drunken rambling that I’ll forget about as soon as this is all over. I’m recording this holo…so I have this agreement down for posterity….” She was bluffing, but he didn’t need to know that, “…no weaseling out. Well, unless I’m dead. Dragging my corpse around for….ugh…well, all that would be….ugh…no, I don’t want to even envision that.”

Theron chuckled, “I won’t renege on it, I promise. And you _will_ get through this. I know you will.”

The intercom chirped and Corso’s voice filtered over the speaker, “Captain. We’re here.”

T’Lara heaved a weary sigh, “You had better be right, Theron. If I die, I’m going to hunt you down and haunt you for the rest of your days.”

“You’ll be fine. Now get out there and show Marr how it’s done.” He flashed her one last smile before the transmission ended. She sat silently for a moment, staring at the empty space where his holo had been, then drained the last of the bottle before striding from her room to aid a Sith Lord hunt down an Emperor. _Stars help us all…_


	5. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two things T'Lara missed the most are returned to her on the same day. But sometimes reunions can be bittersweet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather long chapter because it covers the majority of KotFE Chapter 9, plus a few extra head-canon scenes of my own tossed in. I'd thought about splitting it up, but couldn't find a good place to do so without it seeming choppy, so I just kept on going until it felt like a good place to end. For those looking for a bit of T'Lara/Theron action, yes, it's a bit of a tease (I'm naughty like that). It will definitely come in the next chapter. ;-)

__

_Um…hello! I guess you all know who I am by now._   
_I’m not great at speeches, but…well, I’m supposed to make one, so here goes._   
_The galaxy seems to have pretty much gone to shit in the past 5 years._   
_I missed out on it all, but I’ve heard about how everyone suffered because of Arcann._   
_Right now the whole Republic, Empire thing…well, doesn’t matter anymore._   
_Right now we’ve got to forget all that so we can concentrate on kicking the crap out of him…together._   
_I’m not much of what you’d call an inspirational hero type, but I’ll do what I can to make sure we do what needs to get done to send him and his fleet cowering back to their corner of the universe where they came from._

T’Lara leaned against the railing of the catwalk leading to the newly-built landing pad and let her gaze slide over the Odessen landscape. She still couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at the “inspiring” speech she’d managed to stumble over at Lana and Koth’s prodding over a week ago. _What can you expect when you try to stick a crazy outlaw type in charge of a huge legitimate organization and expect her to be some kind of inspirational hero?_ At least being an “inspiration” didn’t entail having to do too much at this point. She’d even offered to help with some of the technical setup, but after one technician nearly electrocuted himself out of distraction, Koth had gently shoo-ed her away. So, since it was a lovely day, she decided to take some time to simply enjoy it.

It still amazed her how much had been accomplished in so little time. The base was nearly complete already and they had only been there a little over a week. _Of course, if what Lana implied is correct, this was already in the works even before we arrived at Asylum._ T’Lara couldn’t help but cringe a bit at the memory, her hand self-consciously touching her midriff where the scar she’d gained when Arcann ran her through with his lightsaber was concealed beneath a simple black t-shirt. She’d opted out of her usual cropped jacket and halter top, not out of modesty, but because of the way people stared when they saw the livid wound. _Like I’m some sort of legendary magical creature who survived certain death…when it was just the psychotic emperor living in my skull who kept me breathing and walking with a giant hole through my torso._

The wind picked up slightly for a moment, accompanied by the roar of engines, as a shuttle crested the horizon, bearing the last of the dome turrets being set up to defend the base. She silently watched as the small craft deftly settled the turret into place before detaching and coasting smoothly onto the landing pad nearby. Her attention drifted back to where technicians and construction workers were busy activating the systems and locking down the assembly. After a moment, she closed her eyes and just let her mind go blank, breathing in the fresh air and reveling in just being able to relax for the first time in…what seemed like forever.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of footsteps on the metal walkway behind her and the quiet clearing of a throat. “Alliance Commander.”

The title still felt horribly uncomfortable to her, but the voice that spoke it…was all too familiar and her chest clenched as though her heart might explode. Turning, a smile set to split her face, she exclaimed, “Theron! You made it!” She would have rushed into his arms at that very second, but there was something in his hazel eyes that stopped her. He seemed hesitant…unsure…almost leery of her, for some reason. _Did Lana tell him about….what happened?_

His lips twitched as though unsure whether to smile or not, his gaze darting away from hers, as he raked a hand through his brown hair, “I…well, I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. With…all you went through… _are_ going through.”

T’Lara flinched visibly, _Damn, Lana did tell him. I’d hoped to be able to explain it all to him myself. What in the world did she say?! _Quickly recovering, she shook her head, taking a cautious step towards him, “Of course I do! I would never…” Her words trailed off as he turned to walk a few steps down the walkway, reestablishing a slight distance between them, before leaning against the railing just as she had been doing before he had arrived.

“It’s been a long five years. It seems that everything has changed.” His words, along with his distant manner were like a physical blow to her gut…nearly as painful as Arcann’s lightsaber had been. _Oh stars…he’s not interested in me anymore. To me, it’s like we last spoke only a month ago. But for him…after so long, how could I expect him to not move on?_

She was thankful his back was to her so that he could not see the pained look that pinched her face for a brief second before she moved to lean against the railing next to him and gave his arm a slight playful nudge, “Well, you haven’t changed as far as I can see. Maybe even better looking than before.” She forced a bantering tone into her voice, hoping to bridge some of the distance between them with her customary humor.

His gaze cut over to her, a brow raising as a lopsided smile tugged at his lips, “Umm…I don’t know about that. But hey, I’ll take it.”

_It’s like trying to chip away at duracrete with a toothpick. I swear I’m going to wring Lana’s neck when I see her next._ She started to say something…anything…to tell him that she got his letter and how it had been the one bright spot in her life since she had boarded Marr’s ship; to reassure him that having the former Sith Emperor swimming around in her head didn’t change how she felt about him, nor would it ever. But as soon as she started to open her mouth, Theron tilted his head as if listening, then pushed away from the railing.

“Hey, listen, before we get into all the official stuff that’s lined up…I have something for you.”

A tiny flicker of hope began to form as she canted her head curiously. Even before she could ask, Tora’s gruff voice echoed from his comm, “It’s going to need work….a LOT of work!”

The roar of engines washed over them even as the familiar shape of T’Lara’s XS Freighter soared overhead, then swung around for a low fly-by past where they stood, before gliding neatly into a nearby clearing. Tears sprung unbidden into her eyes and she slapped a hand over her lips to stifle a sob of pure joy.

Theron’s voice spoke softly from her shoulder. She almost thought she could hear a touch of affection seeping into his words, “I’ll….let you have a moment. When you’re ready, there’s that official stuff I mentioned…inside. I’ll see you there.”

As his footsteps faded behind her, she couldn’t help but think, _The two things I’ve missed most these past five years…returned to me at once…and both in need of a lot of special care and handling that only I can give. Leading this Alliance will be a cakewalk in comparison, I think…_

\------------------------------------------------------

After taking a few minutes to compose herself, T’Lara strode into the vast cavern that had been designated as the War Room. Her steps faltered slightly as the entrance was lined by what seemed to be an honor guard of both Republic and Imperial soldiers and awaiting her upon the raised platform holding the massive strategic holodisplay, stood Lana, Theron, Koth and Senya.

“Umm…what’s going on?”

Lana stepped forward, tossing her a bemused smile, “It’s time for your first official speech as Alliance Commander.”

“Whaaaat?!” T’Lara’s eyes went wide as they darted about the vast cavern nervously, “Oh no….I already made a speech and you heard what a disaster that was. Now you want me to do it again?!”

“It wasn’t that bad. I actually think everyone appreciated your honesty.” The blonde Sith _almost_ managed to sound sincere and T’Lara tossed her a rather skeptical glare.

“And where did this whole ‘Alliance Commander’ thing get decided? Without my having any say in it whatsoever?!” As her voice rose in volume, T’Lara caught a glimpse of some of the soldiers beginning to shuffle and exchange uncomfortable glances to one another. She was honestly at the point where she almost hoped to drive them away. She didn’t want this. When Lana and Koth freed her from her imprisonment, the only thought on her mind was to get away from all this and go back to Nar Shaddaa to enjoy a nice, long, uneventful retirement. _You won’t hear me ever complain about being bored, ever again_ , she silently vowed. But with Valkorian rattling around in her head and everything else that transpired, that wasn’t going to be an option. Fine. But being the leader of this whole endeavor? Why didn’t Lana or someone else do it?

“It wasn’t decided”, Lana replied bluntly, apparently unfazed by the former smuggler’s angry ranting, “It’s just...simply the way it is. The way it’s been since you arrived. Now, it’s just official.”

T’Lara released a groan as she scrubbed her hands over her face wearily, “Fine. Just…next time give me some advance warning or something so that I can at least think of what to say.”

“I thought Theron had told you”, Lana canted a faintly puzzled glance to Theron, who at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic when T’Lara tossed him an irritated glare.

“No….he didn’t.” Gathering her thoughts, she stepped to the railing where a smattering of soldiers, workers, Jedi, and Sith had assembled. _What a motley group. Guess this can’t be much worse than trying to wrangle a bunch of street gangs, smugglers, and pirates._

“Hello everyone. As you probably know by now, I’m your new Alliance Commander. ‘Commander’. It sounds very strange and uncomfortable to me. But I’m sure that ‘Alliance’ feels a bit strange for most of you right now too. You’re standing next to and working with people who, maybe less than a month ago, you would have gladly killed or imprisoned…or at the very least, looked down on. The galaxy’s been turned upside-down in so many ways for all of us. We’ve had the lives that we once knew stolen away.” She paused for a moment, feeling a sudden tightness of emotion growing in her chest. “Things will probably never be the same again. But we can at least try to make them better…to start new. And to take back what they stole from us.” Once more she paused, a smile tugging at her lips, “Let’s go kick Arcann’s ass.”

The cheering was almost overwhelming as it echoed through the cavern. _Less than a minute ago, they looked at me as though I was full-blown insane, now they’re treating me like some sort of glorious hero_ , she thought sardonically. Even chancing a glance over to Theron wasn’t reassuring: his expression was that of someone who still wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. He did manage a slight approving nod and T’Lara thought she could see a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

Unable to stand there a moment longer under all of their appraising eyes, she turned without a word and strode from the platform, heading to the elevator.

“Where are you going?”, she heard Lana’s voice call to her from behind.

“To my ship. I need to make sure Tora hasn’t completely torn apart my upgrades.” _And I just need to get out of here…away from…all of this._ She left the last unspoken as she made her way out to the clearing where her ship was docked.

\----------------------------

“Who in the bloody blue blazes would ever put _five_ heat sinks on a repulsor modulator…and _why_?!” The grumbled exclamation came from beneath one of the engine panels where a slim, blue haired woman was staring incredulously into its inner workings.

T’Lara fought back a bemused smile and let out a soft cough, only to be rewarded with the sound of clattering metal, a loud “Thunk!” and “Oww! Who the….?!” Tora’s brown eyes widened as they focused on the Mirialan woman, “Oohh…it’s you!”

“Yeah, it’s me”, the erstwhile smuggler replied with a chuckle, “The one who put five heat sinks on a repulsor modulator…” She paused dramatically as she slipped past the engineer to point to a rather elegant mass of wires and hydraulics that snaked around the engine, “Why you ask? Because I bypassed the impulse regulator and if I didn’t shunt the extra heat off somehow, I’d blow the engines the first time we tried to go into afterburner.”

Tora frowned, rubbing the back of her head, as she squinted at the makeshift assembly, “Okay, makes sense….but doesn’t that just kill the entire point of bypassing the regulator if you’re bleeding off all that extra energy?”

T’Lara couldn’t help but flash her a sly grin, “But I’m not wasting it….look”, she pointed to the lines the led from the heat sinks, through a strange-looking module, back into the primary intake. “It gets recycled to give an extra 4.85% boost to the main drive.”

“Oooohhh….” Tora eyed the module curiously, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“It’s Rakatan. I picked it up on Tatooine…long story.” Stepping away from the drive core, she glanced around the ship, lips curling in thought for a moment before she addressed Tora again, “So…how much got ransacked?”

“What? Actually…nothing as far as I can tell. Theron said it was locked up tighter than a Hutt’s treasure trove. If it hadn’t been for C….err that slicer he found, I don’t know if he would’ve even been able to get in at all.”

T’Lara didn’t miss the slip, nor the guilty look on the woman’s face, but decided she wouldn’t prod her about it. _Just one more thing I apparently need to have a talk with Theron about._ “I need a drink”, she grumbled, heading towards the galley.

“I’m with you there! Need something for this headache”, Tora replied testily as she followed at her heels.

T’Lara was surprised to find only a few bottles missing from the bar…and her Mirialan liquor was actually not only untouched, but carefully shelved in the blast cooler….confirming her suspicions that Corso had probably been responsible for the relatively-intact condition of the ship and its contents. She pulled out one of the bottles along with two glasses and poured them each a generous draught of the deep green liquor, passing one to Tora, who eyed the contents warily.

“What is it?”

“Mirialan herb liquor. Just give it a try.” The smuggler flashed Tora a wry smirk before tossing back the contents of her glass in one deft motion.

Not to be outdone, Tora gave the glass a brief sniff before following suit, only to begin coughing uncontrollably. “Whoa…that’s….whoa…” She blinked a few times, then stared into the glass. “That’s good stuff…”

T’Lara grinned and refilled her glass along with her own, “Have another.”

\---------------------------------

About an hour and one empty bottle later found both women kicked back on the lounge in the main hold, laughing uncontrollably. “And then I said, ‘After all of this build-up, I had expected you would be….more.”

“No way!”, Tora exclaimed. “What did he say to that?”

“Oh, you should have seen the look on his face. I think it was the first time any woman had ever really insulted his…prowess. He couldn’t even figure out a reply, just started sputtering, ‘Uhh….oh yeah?...well…so did…me too!’. It was priceless! I wish I’d taken a holo.”

Tora let out one of her characteristic hooting laughs, nearly falling off the lounge at T’Lara’s imitation, “What did you do then?”

“I shot him in the face.” T’Lara shrugged nonchalantly, though her lips formed a scowl, “Pity he was such an asshole. He actually was very, very good…but I wasn’t about to tell him that.”

“Jerk deserved it. I’d heard all kinds of nasty things about him. ‘Jackal of the Stars and all that.’” Tora’s voice trailed off as her comm started beeping. “Well, damn…looks like we’re found out.” Activating the comm, she barked testily, “What, Theron?”

T’Lara felt a slight twinge of…something….as Theron’s voice filtered over the comm, “Hey now, if you’re going to be like that, then I’ll take back the party invitation. Is the Commander over there with you?”

“Yes, Theron, I’m here.” T’Lara tried to keep the slight slur from her voice…unsuccessfully, “You say something about a party?”

“Yeah, Lana and Koth organized a little impromptu gathering at the cantina. But…it sounds like you two got started already…”, his voice trailed off hesitantly.

“Hey, we can bring our party there. No problem!” She paused thoughtfully for a moment, “I’m not gonna have to make any more speeches, am I?”

“Not unless you want to. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” T’Lara pushed somewhat unsteadily from her seat and meandered back to the galley to procure a fresh bottle, returning just as Tora had cut the comm and risen from her own seat…also looking more than a bit tipsy herself. “Let’s go!”

\---------------------------------

The party was apparently in full swing by the time T’Lara and Tora arrived. The cantina was packed and filled with the mixed din of music and conversation taking place between a wide assortment of species. T’Lara headed straight for the bar, bottle in hand, where Koth, Lana and Theron were all milling about.

“Well, look who it is”, Theron piped up, glancing around Lana’s shoulder as T’Lara approached their group.

Lana turned as T'Lara passed the bottle over to Koth who was apparently playing impromptu bartender at the moment. “You made it! I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

T’Lara leaned against the bar, scowling with obvious puzzlement, “Oh? Why would I not come?”

For the first time…possibly ever…Lana seemed nervous and darted her gaze over to Koth, “Umm…should I say anything?”

Koth laughed and shook his head vehemently, “Nope nope nope….and nope.” Possibly hoping to divert T’Lara’s attention away from Lana, he gestured to the bottle, “So, what is this anyway? A donation?”

“Something like that. At least until I can find a good supplier so that I don’t have to pull out of my personal stash. It’s a Mirialan herb liquor.”

From over her shoulder, came a raspy female voice, “You got your hands on some _f’ssintalor_?!”

T’Lara turned to the middle-aged Mirialan woman approaching the bar and her eyes went as wide as saucers as recognition suddenly dawned, “Hylo Visz?!”

“In the flesh”, she replied with a wry grin, snatching the bottle from Koth’s unresisting grasp. “Oooo, distilled in 3660….that was a very good year.”

T’Lara was so overcome with awe that she didn’t even notice the very amused expressions worn by the rest of her companions as she began babbling excitedly, “That was the year you broke the Mandalorian Blockade over Coruscant…single-handedly.”

“Was far from ‘single-handedly’. I had lots of help and support…”, she trailed off to mumble irritably beneath her breath as she poured a glass of the deep green liquor, “some more trustworthy than others.”

“Still….you’ve always been…”

“Please don’t say ‘my hero’”, Hylo groaned.

T’Lara burst into nervous laughter and shook her head. “No, you probably hate that word as much as I do. More like….inspiration…role model, maybe?”

“Hey, I’ve heard you’ve done some pretty amazing stuff of your own. Took down the VoidWolf and that little weasel, Skavak…just for starters. And hey, you’re the Alliance Commander while I’m just here to shuffle the goods and somehow find money to pay for it all.”

“You’re working for m….us?!” T’Lara cut her gaze over to Theron and Lana inquisitively.

Theron nodded, offering a faintly sheepish smile, “Yeah, I’d planned on making the introductions sooner, but Lana here decided that we all needed to take a bit of a break first.”

“You especially, Theron”, Lana replied, sounding very much like a mother hen, “You can’t try to carry the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders all the time.”

“Yeah, we really need to find something to cheer you up”, Koth added, despite Theron’s obviously-annoyed scowl.

“Hey, I’m cheerful…sort of. I’m here aren’t I?”, Theron replied defensively.

T’Lara fixed him with a steady glare before grabbing his arm, “Yes, and now that you are….we need to talk…in private.” Feeling the stares of the others on their backs, she steered him towards one of the semi-private rooms tucked away off the main floor.

As they stepped away from the prying eyes of the rest of the cantina, T’Lara whirled on him accusingly, “Okay, Theron can you please just tell me, what in blazes is going on?! What did Lana say to you about me? Why are you being so…distant?” She couldn’t help the crack in her voice at the last. The half of a bottle of liquor helped loosen her tongue, but it also dissolved any sort of barriers on her feelings she might have wanted to keep up in his presence.

Theron winced visibly and glanced away, “She told me about what happened to you…and the Emperor. That he….or his spirit…or something is still inside of you. She didn’t really elaborate much, so I wasn’t sure how much it had...changed you. If you still remembered me…or anything.” He released a weary sigh, shoulders slumping beneath the ever-present red jacket, “it’s been a long five years. And I know it doesn’t seem like that for you…or I can only guess that it doesn’t. I don’t know what went on while you were frozen.”

“I had nightmares, Theron. And they made the ones I had after Ziost look like a picnic in comparison.” She sighed deeply, “He…the Emperor….showed me some of what happened while I was asleep. So much death…destruction. And all because of what happened after Marr and I were captured. If we hadn’t been there…” She shook her head, “None of this might have happened.”

He took her shoulders in his hands and met her gaze evenly, “Hey, don’t say that. I saw the HoloNet broadcasts. Arcann just used the assassination as an excuse, I’m pretty sure of it. They had already attacked some of the fringe colonies. It was just a matter of time…”

T’Lara closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze as she spoke softly, “The ironic thing is…I didn’t kill Valkorian. Arcann did. I was just a….distraction…a scapegoat.”

“You see, then it’s not your fault. You were just a convenient excuse for him to use.”

She abruptly pulled away from him, turning her back to hide tears that threatened to flow, “There’s something I didn’t tell Lana about what happened. I didn’t tell anyone. I want to tell you, but…” She shook her head as though trying to clear it, “…you already look at me as though you’re expecting me to start acting like one of the possessed back on Ziost. And I’m not…he’s not controlling me. He hardly ever even talks to me. I don’t know what it is, but I’m still me…”

“I know…” She felt his hands settle once more onto her shoulders as he spoke quietly from behind her, “I knew the moment you saw your ship. The look on your face…it was all you. Vitiate…Valkorian…he never would have had such a reaction. I doubt he could even manage to fake it.” He gently turned her back to face him, and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, “And you can tell me anything. It won’t change how I feel about you.”

T’Lara blinked, slightly taken aback, “How you…so you…?”

“I sent you a letter…I guess you didn’t…” A pained look briefly crossed his features.

“No, Theron…I got it. It was…amazing. It was the one thing that kept me going through all of this. Hoping that I’d see you again and we…” She trailed off, words escaping her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help thaw you out. I really wanted to be, but I’m here now… _we’re_ here now and…well, I’ve never been much of a ‘destiny’ kind of person. But this, I don’t know….it kind of feels like it somehow.” He reached up to trail his fingers along her cheek, almost as though making completely certain that she was really there.

“I’ve never been one to believe in destiny myself, but whatever this is…I’ll take it”, she whispered and grasped the front of his jacket to pull his lips down to hers.

She tasted like mint and alcohol….and five years was far, far too long to have been without her. His lips devoured hers hungrily even as her fingers entwined in his hair, his arms twining around her waist. The back of her knees hit the edge of the lounge, but she just pulled him down to her as she laid back onto the worn synthleather. She was ready to have him then and there, her hands tugging at his shirt, but a sudden burst of laughter filtered in from the cantina, and Theron’s head snapped up self-consciously.

“Umm...maybe we should save this for somewhere more private.” He flashed her a lopsided smile as he pulled away, offering her a hand up from the couch.

T’Lara curled her lips into a mock-pout as she let him pull her to her feet. “Oh fine…I suppose it can wait. But not much longer…it’s already been five years too long.”

“Oh, I totally agree with you on that.” He pulled her into a deep kiss before murmuring against her lips, “Your quarters in…one hour?”

“I will be there”, she replied with a sly smile tugging at her lips as she straightened her shirt and led him back out into the cantina’s main room….which was now almost devoid of people. Lana and Koth still sat at the bar, idly chatting, and turned as they approached.

“Things winding down already?” Theron asked, indicating the nearly-empty cantina.

Lana offered a somewhat wry smile, “Tora and Len got into a drinking contest…it ended…poorly.” T’Lara’s gaze cut over to a nearby table where both participants laid in various states of semi-consciousness.

Koth suddenly slid from his stool, eyes darting warily around the cantina, “Wait….where’s Senya? Has anyone seen Senya?”

Lana laid a hand lightly on his forearm, speaking quietly, “Koth, she’s not hunting you anymore. You need to relax.”

“I thought this was a party, guys…” T’Lara playfully punched Koth on the shoulder as she rounded the bar to pour herself another glass of _f’ssintalor_.

“Sorry”, the dark-skinned pilot grumbled. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“Oh, it looks pretty well dead already”, she replied, tossing back the contents before gesturing around the room with the empty glass.

“Yeah, I need to get these _miserable lightweights_ back in work in a few hours”, he yelled over towards Len and Tora, the latter releasing a pain-filled moan as she curled into a ball upon the table. “Uugghh….Shut. Up!”

T’Lara chuckled, “Go easy on her. She helped me polish off a bottle of this before we even got here.”

“Well, I guess that’s that, then”, Lana said as she pushed from the bar.

“Yeah, I have…meetings to schedule”, Theron replied, darting his gaze to T’Lara for a split second.

T’Lara fought back a smile, hiding it by turning to place the liquor bottle back on the shelf. “I’ll take a quick spin around the base…see if I can round up Senya anywhere before I head to bed. It’s been quite a day.”

“That is has”, Lana replied. “Good night, all.”


	6. Reunions, Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Lara and Theron find that five years can change everything...but some things never change...

Theron Shan stared intently at the readout flashing across one of the many consoles lining the walls of the vast war room in an unsuccessful attempt to keep from glancing at the chrono for what was probably the tenth time or so since he had started the program running. It was getting late, but he felt the need to squeeze in at least one last bit of productivity before his “meeting” with the Alliance Commander. _These Star Fortresses aren’t going to destroy themselves_ , he thought to himself. _Would be nice if they did, though._

His original intent had been to meet with the Alliance’s new cadre of specialists to discuss possibilities that evening after his arrival, but Lana had determined that a celebration was in order. While the workaholic in him had bristled at being wrangled into “mandatory fun” at the cantina, he could not complain too strongly. His semi-private reunion with the Mirialan smuggler had been the first real bright spot in all of the…insanity of the past five years.

Lana had kept in contact with him as much as she was able prior to the rescue effort, but once she had initiated comm silence, he could do nothing more but sit, wait and worry. _I should have been the one to pull that one off…to be there for her when she woke up. Lana was never a field agent until Marr shoved her into it. This sort of crazy op is what I have been doing for over a decade now._ That thought had plagued him endlessly from the moment she had contacted him about her plans. But, Lana was also the one with the inside contacts in Zakuul who could get her where she needed to be…and hopefully, pull off the extraction without too much trouble. It still grated on him that she was able to come up with such valuable people on the inside while he had been barely able to scratch the surface to turn up a few Core World refugees here and there. _She must use the Force or something…it’s definitely not her charm._

Once Lana had finally been able to contact him again to fill him in on the mission’s “success”… _If you can call nearly blowing up half of Zakuul, then getting stranded in a swamp for a week, while coming across some ancient starship that they somehow managed to repair enough to pilot to Asylum, “success”_...she had been rather tight-lipped about T’Lara’s status. _“She is alive and well. But…not entirely herself.”_ He’d had to harangue the Sith woman more than he would have liked in order to get even the smallest hint of what that meant.

_“She thinks that…the Emperor is in her mind. That she somehow absorbed his spirit or energy…or something…when he died. I can feel something very different about her, so it could be true. Tell no one else of this.”_ Theron hadn’t been sure what could have been worse: that T’Lara was having some sort of delusional hallucinations brought on by the extended carbonite hibernation, or that she really did have the Sith Emperor living inside of her somehow.

He couldn’t help but recall their last conversation five years ago right before she had joined Darth Marr to hunt down the Emperor. She had blamed him for pulling her into this whole mess…and she was right. He had been the one to push her dossier across Colonel Darok’s desk for their initial strike on Korriban, but he’d had no way of knowing the galactic conspiracy and eventual catastrophe that would come from it. She had been just a potential resource at that point…someone to do their dirty work. But she had eventually turned into more than just a valuable asset…both to the Republic as a whole and to him, personally.

From the moment he had stepped on board the shuttle bound for Odessen, he had been in a constant state of nervous agitation. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt this sort of anxiety. _Ask me to take down a Sith-controlled Imperial capital ship from the inside and I don’t bat an eye. But coming face-to-face with her after five years? Complete nervous wreck._

Theron often had people (usually his superiors) say that he was impulsive, rash…acted without thinking…but that was completely untrue. “Observe, analyze, act” was almost a mantra for him. Just because he didn’t reveal his entire thought process leading up to a final decision, didn’t mean that a massive amount of deliberation didn’t take place beforehand. And he had a very long five years to think over what he was going to say when the time finally came to see her again. But Lana’s statement had thrown all of that out of the window. As vague as the Sith’s words had been, Theron had no way of knowing how “changed” T’Lara actually was. And maybe even Lana had no idea. For all anyone knew, T’Lara could be possessed like the people on Ziost had been. Or the Emperor could be residing as a kind of “sleeper agent” in her mind, just waiting to take over at an opportune moment. _Or you could be stressing out for nothing and she’s perfectly fine. Right…since when have things ever worked out “as planned”?_

So when he had stepped off the shuttle to see her staring out into the distance, he couldn’t help but to be a bit wary. Even her enthusiastic greeting and playful flirting could have been contrived, so he opted to keep a slight distance for the time being. However, when Tora had flown past in the ship that T’Lara had called home for many years, the expression on the former smuggler’s face along with the unshed tears sparkling in her eyes, proved to him without a doubt that she was still herself. _At least for now…_

\----------------------------------

_You may not see an alliance, but our destinies are now entwined. There is so much you could be capable of if you just take advantage of that._

Valkorian’s words still echoed in T’Lara’s mind, despite every effort to shake them. After having located Senya, she had started to make her way back to her quarters to prepare for her “meeting” with Theron. However, the erstwhile Emperor apparently could not resist the opportunity to try and unbalance her. She finally managed to shut him up (or rather, he merely chose to fade from her awareness)…though now half the Alliance probably thought she was mad as a hatter for seemingly holding a heated argument with herself as she walked the hallways of the base…before deciding to jump in the refresher to try and wash away the feeling of violation she always felt when he talked to her.

However, this only gave her more time to think. _“Alliance”, “Destiny”, it’s like I’m being taunted with those words. They keep coming up…from Koth, Lana, Theron, Senya, Valkorian. It’s like they’re all reading off the same script…all trying to push me in one direction._ At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to grab her things, run to her ship, and leave, never to return…never to hear those two words uttered ever again.

She looked around the sparse quarters provided to her and it felt like the rough-hewn rock walls were closing in on her. There were no personal effects beyond what she’d had on her when they arrived. It felt like a prison cell. _A prison cell with flags_ , she thought irritably. Some enterprising Alliance member had apparently managed to design and fabricate an “official” banner of the Alliance and decided that the Commander needed it in her quarters. But not just one…but _four_ of the blasted things. _As though I’m going to forget that I am “The Alliance Commander” if it’s not shoved in my face, even when I’m in my own private quarters._ _First chance I get, I’m recruiting some muscle to help me get these damn things out of here…bastards are heavy._

As her eyes traveled the room, they fell upon an unopened bottle of Corellian whiskey. The temptation was strong to down the entire thing…just so she could have the satisfaction of throwing the empty bottle at those stupid flags. Even as she warred with herself at the prospect, the door chime rang.

Still caught up in her morose thoughts, she answered automatically, “Come in!”

\---------------------------

Theron instinctively glanced down the hallway as the door to T’Lara’s quarters slid open. As far as he knew, she hadn’t mentioned their….relationship to anyone, and being that he had never been completely sure of exactly what that was…especially with the 5-year interlude…he had seen fit not to make it known either. So his paying a late night visit to the Alliance Commander might seem just a little…unusual to any random passers-by.

He really wasn’t sure what to expect…so when he entered to find her pacing the floor, clad only in what appeared to be a Republic-military-issued bathrobe, with damp hair and an unusually pensive expression on her face, he was only mildly taken aback. Her normally-playful demeanor was gone and when she finally tore her gaze from the bottle of Corellian whiskey as though she only just now noticed him, there was a mix of pain and relief within her crimson eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m a little late. Bey’wan cornered me….I swear he never sleeps….and…” His explanation was suddenly cut short as T’Lara literally threw herself into his arms and held him as though she would never let go. “Hey, it’s okay”, he murmured into her hair as he returned the embrace, “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

“It’s not that”, her voice was barely a whisper as she cling to him, her expression hidden, but pain evident in her tone, “It’s just….everything…”

He pulled away only slightly, just enough to slide his fingers along her jaw to gently tilt her chin up to meet her eyes, “Do you want to talk about it? It’s fine if you’re not…”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she shook her head, “Theron…no. I don’t want to talk…not now.” There was a desperate, longing need in her crimson eyes that he found he couldn’t resist.

As his lips met hers, the next several moments dissolved away into the taste of sweet herbs and liquor still upon her tongue, the furtive tugging of hands upon clothes, and the press of skin against skin. Awareness flared but for a second as the back of his knees hit the edge of the large curved couch, but T’Lara merely pushed him down to sit upon it and climbed into his lap.

It was like Yavin 4, but…it wasn’t. That had been urgent, yet slow and sensual…two people meeting for the first, and possibly last time, who wanted to make the moment last. This was just as urgent, yet desperate and primal….five years of loss and absence. Every emotion that had been stifled during that long span suddenly released at once.

They clung to each other as though they could meld into one single entity, bodies sealed to each other as he drove fully into her, wrenching cries of pure abandon from her lips. His fingers twined in her damp hair, pulling her into a passionate kiss, muffling their mutual outcries of ecstasy as the world exploded around them.

T’Lara sagged against him as he wrapped his arms around her, trailing his fingers along her spine. “I’m sorry”, he murmured as he placed a feathery kiss against the curve of her neck.

Confusion crossed her features as she pulled away slightly, “What? Why?”

He offered a faintly-sheepish half-grin, touching his forehead to hers, “Well, I thought to go a bit…slower. And maybe actually make use of the bed for once.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, “The bed’s not going anywhere. And the night’s still young. We do have five years of catching up to do, after all.”

“That we do”, he replied, leaning in to kiss her deeply even as he rose to his feet, still holding her tightly against him, as he made his way to the bed, where they both tumbled in a laughing disarray of limbs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cut this one a bit shorter than originally planned, but it was getting ponderous, plus I decided to dedicate a few new chapters to flashbacks on the traumatic events that shaped T'Lara's life before she became an infamous smuggler. Was originally going to have her just tell Theron about them, but a whole new multi-chapter story started forming, so I'm going to run with it.


	7. Echoes of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron stumbles across a hint of T'Lara's dark past.

_She’s my baby. I’ve had her since I was…18. She…got me through some rough times and was always there for me. You can’t even imagine how it felt to see her again._

T’Lara’s words echoed through Theron’s mind as his fingers quietly danced over the keys of the computer console. He spared a quick glance to her still-sleeping form and couldn’t help but smile. Five years was a long time to make up for and they had barely scratched the surface. They had made love and talked long into the wee hours of the night until finally falling into an exhausted, yet contented sleep.

Of course, Theron was never one to remain idle for long so, even with only a few hours of sleep, he had still awoken early with his mind churning over some of the things she had said. There was this niggling little bit of data that kept prodding at his memory. _Something about her ship…when I was out looking for it before._ Pulling up the registry, it suddenly dawned on him what it was when the history began scrolling past. _That’s it. The registry change. I didn’t think anything of it because it was so long ago and I assumed it was before she acquired it._

> **Registry change request by [REDACTED]**
> 
> **Previous registry: [REDACTED]**
> 
> **Previous Owner: [REDACTED]**
> 
> **Current Registry Designation: XS-5604-A**
> 
> **Current Owner: T’Lara Kryn**
> 
> **Authorization Code: LM-783-S22**

Theron frowned. Somehow, this had the stink of SIS all over it. Dredging out authorizations he hoped had not been revoked, he started digging deeper and could barely restrain a surprised gasp when the information finally pulled up on the screen.

> **XS Freighter, registration XS-572-00X**
> 
> **Owner: Agent Nigel Varlo**
> 
> **Last known location: Nar Shaddaa**
> 
> **Status: MIA, presumed KIA during Operation Tritanium Cross**

_Nigel Varlo?! He was one of the top agents in the field when I was just getting started. She’s flying his ship?!_ Unable to contain his curiosity, Theron pulled up the records of “Operation Tritanium Cross”. As his gaze skimmed over the brief, he felt a growing knot in his gut.

> **Operation Tritanium Cross**
> 
> **Purpose: Recover data spike containing intel on operations of Varto the Hutt [see attached dossier].**
> 
> **Mission Parameters: Infiltrate Nar Shaddaa residence of Varto the Hutt. Make contact with potential inside source for location of missing data spike. Obtain intel and extract without exposing cover.**
> 
> **Potential Assets: T’Lara Kryn [see attached]**

“Go ahead. Click it. You know you want to.”

Theron jumped with a startled cry at the voice behind him. He had been so absorbed by the report on the screen, he had not even heard her slip out of bed. He turned to see her standing behind him clad once more in the bathrobe, arms crossed, an expression caught somewhere between annoyance and amusement upon her emerald features.

“I….I’m sorry…” Theron fought for words to try and explain why he was dredging into her past…and failed. “I wasn’t trying to pry…”

T’Lara rolled her eyes and playfully mussed his hair. “Yes you were. Once SIS, always SIS. It’s your job to pry. I’m certainly not relying on Miss Minister of Sith Intelligence out there to get it done right. That’s what you’re here for.” Leaning in, she reached past him to click the link to her dossier, placing a feathery kiss upon his ear, whispering, “Well, among other things.”

The page loaded, complete with thumbnail shots that had the blurry quality of those taken with a hidden camera. He couldn’t force himself to click on the pictures because what he could see from the smaller shots made his stomach turn. It was her…that much he could discern easily, especially since he had also seen her body in the same unclothed state. But, this…

Feeling her eyes at his back, he tore his gaze away from the images and began reading.

> **Name: T’Lara Kryn**
> 
> **Species: Mirialin**
> 
> **Age: Approx 17-18 standard years**
> 
> **Background: Previously associated with the salvager group known as “The Verdant Spear”, serving as mechanic, technician, and social liaison. Highly skilled in technical repair, ship operations, and interpersonal relations. Group became involved with Draago the Hutt [see separate entry] which lead to dealings with Varto under cover of lifting valuable operations intel to sell to Draago. Operation failed, entire team massacred at the hands of Varto with the exception of the subject.**
> 
> **Status: Subject is currently serving Varto as a pleasure slave under the direct supervision of the twi’lek slavemaster Cal’Dor [see separate entry]. Subject could be suffering from severe PTSD, physical, mental and emotional abuse, as well as potentially under the influence of mind-altering drugs. Handle with extreme caution.**

Theron closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, unable to read another word. He felt her hands come to rest lightly upon his shoulders as she spun the chair around to face her. Opening his eyes, his gaze caught her own crimson orbs as she knelt before him, fixing with an intent stare that was tinged with sadness.

“That’s not who I am anymore, Theron.”

“I know”, his voice was rough with emotion and shame. He had no right to dredge this part of her past back up into the light.

“The fact that I’m here with you now…like this, proves it.” She reached past him to tap a name on the screen, “Cal’Dor”. “He’s the reason I never allowed myself to care for anyone. Why I never trusted anyone beyond what they could give me in one night. He made me believe he was just an abused slave who was desperately trying to escape his master. I pitied him….I loved him…and he was the one who betrayed us to Varto…and laughed while he did it. Then he turned that love into something twisted and perverse that he used to try to control me with.”

She gently cupped his cheek in her palm and smiled as he leaned into her touch, “You’re the first person I’ve ever let myself get this close to since then. Who wasn’t just some idle fling for one night. I wish I had the courage to say this to you before. I guess I just didn’t want to admit it…to you or myself. I was too afraid of…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“You know I’d never do anything like that to you.”

“I do…now. I never thought you were capable of anything that…heinous. But you were SIS…whose agents are known for doing whatever it takes to get a job done. For all I knew, you could have been just stringing me along so that I’d keep running to help you with all those missions.”

“I would never!” He sputtered indignantly, scowling, “That’s not how I operate at all!”

T’Lara laughed, leaning in to place a kiss upon his forehead, “I know that now, silly. But up until Yavin IV, I honestly wasn’t totally sure. And then, when I was….well, I still didn’t want to admit how I felt. If I did, that made it real. And…I wasn’t ready for that…or thought I wasn’t.”

He flashed her a lop-sided smile, “I remember. You were so upset that I saw through your whole ‘Free-spirited smuggler who doesn’t care about anyone or anything except credits’ façade.”

“I…didn’t want you to know how much I started to care for you. I just…felt like…that could have been the last time we ever saw one another. I didn’t know if you even felt the same at all. Not until your letter.”

He sank his head into his palm with a soft groan, “Oh stars, that letter was awful. I don’t know how many times I tried to write it before I just finally hit ‘Send’ and hoped for the best.”

“Theron, that letter…it saved my life. Really. When I woke up, it was like this jumbled chaos of sickness and running and fighting. It all blurred together. Then there’s Lana telling me I’m the only hope to save the galaxy and it’s been five years…and everything was just so…overwhelming. I thought that after all that time, you would have forgotten about me…or, at the very least, moved on. Then, when I opened it…and you said that you still cared…that you hadn’t forgotten about me and you never would. I….” She swallowed, fighting back the tears from the memory, “I had a reason to go on.”

He rose and gathered her in his arms, “I’m glad. I didn’t even know if you’d be able to read it before we were able to meet. But, just in case…I just thought you needed to know how I felt.”

They stood like that for several long moments until the incessant chirping of the comm broke through the silence. Theron grumbled under his breath and activated the audio-only line, Bey’wan’s gravelly voice carrying through the connection, “You didn’t forget about our meeting, did you?”

“No, no Bey’wan. I’m coming. Just got caught up in some…research. I’ll be there in a minute.” Cutting the transmission, he offered her an apologetic half-smile. “No rest for the wicked. For either of us. You need to make an appearance as well at some point so you can meet our cadre of specialists.”

Groaning, she raked a hand through her hair, “Ugh….the Alliance Commander’s work is never done, is it?”

“Nope…but I promise that I’ll try to make it as painless as possible if I can.”

“I’ll hold you to that. See you there in….oh, about 10 minutes.” She flashed him a smile as he slipped from her room, then she turned back to the console, the smile fading. A faint trace of electric tingling tickled beneath her skin as she balled her hand into a fist and punched the screen with all of her might, the console sending up a shower of sparks as the screen went black. Her knuckles were bloodied but even as she watched, the wounds slowly closed over and she wasn’t sure if she imagined the faint sound of laughter echoing in her mind.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've honestly rewritten this about a half a dozen times in almost as many different formats. I've been wanting to delve into T'Lara's past a bit more, but didn't want her to just tell Theron about it outright. I actually started a multi-chapter story from the SIS agent, Nigel Varlo's POV, but decided against it for the time being (I might finish it at some point and post it as a separate work...not sure yet).  
> I started writing T'Lara as a more light-hearted, fun change from some of my more serious characters. But it's turning out that she's becoming one of the darkest out of all of them....or at least her past is. So, while I wanted to get it out there, I didn't want to delve into it too much for fear of really turning her into a dark, tragic character. And that's not what I want for her.  
> Yes, the end takes a sort of potentially-dark turn, but I'm am not going to turn her into a dark character. She is and always will be my fun-loving smuggler girl who's madly in love with her former-SIS man.  
> And I said "dark" way too much there...ugh...


	8. The Specialists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little closing-out of KotFE chapter 9....and Theron finds out something rather unexpected about T'Lara's past.

“—will fail without detailed schematics! We need hanger positions, defensive capabilities—“

T’Lara recognized the gruff voice from Theron’s earlier comm as she stepped into the war room. So far, it seemed that no one had noticed her entrance, so she took a brief moment to take advantage of the caf machine that was burbling quietly away upon a stack of crates.

Another voice, deeper this time, interjected in obvious frustration, “I cannot divine such information, nor pray to the gods of science! All I can do is speculate. Unless we can extract the data in secret.”

As T’Lara ascended the stairs to the main area of the war room, Hylo Visz’s distinct rasp broke in, “Hey now, I’ve broken in to some crazy places before...but stations like these? Whole other deal…”

The older smuggler’s voice trailed off as she caught T’Lara’s eye. “Hey there!”

Theron turned to toss T’Lara the briefest of smiles as she approached the tactical holodisplay they were all gathered around. “Guess we’ll table this for now, since we have company.” With the press of a button, the holo-image of an alien-looking battle station dissolved into static.

T’Lara quirked a brow at him as she leaned against the console, “Anything I can help with?” She hitched a thumb at the empty space where the space station holo had been as she took a sip of the caf.

“With Arcann’s battle stations?” Theron replied with a somewhat-helpless shrug. “Sure…as soon as we understand them.”

T’Lara couldn’t help but take in the motley group of beings gathered around the display. _A Hutt, a Bothan, two Mirialans, a human and a Voss? Almost sounds like the beginning of a bad joke._

Noticing her wandering gaze, Theron gestured to the group, “The Alliance itself seems pretty well underway, but the Core Worlds are still under threat of Arcann’s considerable reach. So…we’ve assembled a few specialists to help with the big questions and recruiting.”

The Hutt piped up first, in surprisingly-fluent Basic, “Doctor Juvard Illip Oggurobb, at your service. My specialty is the sciences in all their wondrous forms. And while I am no biologist, I will admit that I am fascinated by the potential long-term effects of carbonite poisoning on your mental faculties.”

T’Lara couldn’t help but chuckle somewhat nervously at this. Dr. Oggurobb was about the complete opposite of any Hutt she had ever encountered and she wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious. Especially considering the way he was scrutinizing her through the cyber-monocle hovering over one eye. “Ummm…good to meet you, Doctor. I’m glad I’m of such….interest. But, please, no experiments on my brain, okay?”

The hulking charcoal-hued Hutt sighed dramatically, “Oh….very well. I have a potential recruit I would like to discuss with you, though. When you’re available, of course.”

“Of course”, she turned her attentions to the rest as the Bothan spoke up. His introduction confirmed that his was the voice she had heard on Theron’s comm this morning.

“Bey’wan Aygo, Commander. Former Fleet Admiral in the Republic Navy. Discharged, but still in the fight!” T’Lara had to restrain an amused grin as she tilted her head in greeting to the russet-furred soldier. _Now there’s the epitome of a gung-ho career military man._

“Greetings Commander. I am Sana-Rae. Your visage surfaced in my Trials…and so, I am here.”

T’Lara couldn’t help but stare curiously at the Voss woman, her tall, lanky form shrouded by a hooded robe. The glow of her blue eyes illuminated her bright crimson skin. “I guess a lot has changed in the past five years. I didn’t think the Voss let Mystics go off-world.”

“That is a bit of a tale, Commander. One I would be glad to share whenever you have the time.”

There was a long pause as five sets of eyes swiveled to focus on the last member of the group. The older Mirialan scowled, “What?! We’ve already met! She knows who I am.” She tossed Theron a sly wink before fixing T’Lara with a crooked smile, “Just the Republic’s most famous outlaw hero!”

T’Lara’s eyebrows rose sharply over the rim of the caf mug, a smile tugging at her lips, “Hang on now…who’s ‘the most famous outlaw hero’?”

Hylo burst into laughter and turned to Oggurobb, “Told you, Doctor Hutt. That’s five thousand credits.”

The Hutt groaned, rolling his eyes, “Hmph! Moving on!”

The younger smuggler couldn’t help but laugh. _I think I’m going to like this bunch._ “So what ‘big questions’ are we going to be working on?”

Theron gestured to each of the gathered group in turn as he spoke, “Logistics, intelligence, technology, military, and of course, the Force. Do _you_ have any questions?”

T’Lara merely shrugged as she tossed back the last of the caf, “I’m good. Can’t think of any right now. Too damn early. I’m sure I’ll think of something eventually after the caf’s kicked in. Nice meeting you all!”

With that, the assembled specialists ambled, strode, and slithered back to their respective offices. As the last disappeared from sight, Theron turned to T’Lara with a pained frown, “Listen. I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have pried.”

She shook her head, “Theron, don’t worry about it. I was planning on telling you about it eventually. It just happened sooner, rather than later.” A faintly-crooked smile tugged at her lips as she stared thoughtfully into the empty caf cup cradled in her hands, “I mean, I can’t really blame you for doing your job. And, if I were in your shoes, I’d be wanting to know everything I could about the person I was sleeping with too.”

Theron visibly flinched, raking a hand through his hair, “Well, if you ever want to know anything about the person _you’re_ sleeping with, just ask. Or, heck, I could probably pull up my SIS file, if you’re really curious. Probably some things in there still classified, though…psych profile, etc.”

T’Lara’s face lit up with interest that Theron couldn’t quite tell if it was real or faked, “Oh? But I’ll bet you could pull up _my_ psych profile, couldn’t you?”

“Mmmm….probably?” He replied hesitantly, not entirely confident with where this was leading.

“Beh! Maybe I should have taken them up on the offer!” She cast him a sideways glance, a wicked grin upon her lips, “If nothing else, we would have met much earlier.”

Now Theron was really confused…and it showed, “What are you talking about?”

Laughter burst from her lips as she slapped him playfully on the shoulder, “They were going to recruit me! To the SIS!”

“What?!” Theron blinked in astonishment, “When?!”

“After Nar Shaddaa.” She paused, glancing back to her mug. “I need more caf. C’mon.” She spun on her heel and strode to the caf machine, Theron in tow. “When Nigel died getting me out of there, he gave me the ship and the data spike”, she explained as she poured herself another cup of caf, then tapped one of the empty mugs arrayed next to the machine, “You want one?”

“Sure”, he replied as she busied herself with the machine, “So, he trusted you to take care of both of them?”

“Yup, don’t sound so surprised!” She gave him a playful nudge before she passed him the cup, “Told me to take them back to SIS HQ on Coruscant.” She shrugged and took a sip before continuing, “Can’t say I wasn’t tempted to just take both and run. I never had much of a fondness for the Core Worlds…and, being that I wasn’t exactly a good, law-abiding citizen, SIS headquarters was the last place I’d willingly walk into.”

“But you went?” He leaned against the stacked crates, sipping at the caf as she continued.

“Against my better judgement, yeah. I flew to Coruscant, walked right into SIS headquarters, and gave them the spike. Told them who it was from and what was on it.” She chuckled quietly at the memory, “I don’t think they quite knew what to make of me at first. Some skinny Mirialan teenager wearing clothes ten sizes too big (since I literally ran out of there with nothing and everything on the ship was…well…his and not exactly my size), waving around a data spike and telling everyone that she finished this agent’s top-secret job for him before he died.”

Theron nearly sputtered on his drink at the mental image, “That had to be a sight.”

“Well, once they verified that I was telling the truth, they wanted to recruit me right on the spot.” Her gaze grew distant as she stared into the mug, “I can’t say that I wasn’t tempted. But for most of my life up to that point, I had always been working for someone, controlled by what someone else wanted me to do. And not just the slavery, my crew was awesome, but I was still the ‘kid’, so I pretty much had to do what they wanted.”

“So, you turned them down.”

“Yup. Told them thanks, but no thanks, just let me keep the ship and I’ll be on my way.” She paused to take a sip of caf, “I’m honestly surprised they agreed. But, I had my freedom and haven’t regretted a thing since then.” A smile tugged at her lips as she slanted her gaze to him, “Well, aside from missing out on meeting you years earlier than I did. But, other than that, everything worked out.”

Theron took a sip of caf, his expression thoughtful, “Well, no offense, but I think back then neither of us were probably in the frame of mind where it would have worked out, anyway. We both had plenty of issues that would have gotten in the way.”

“Good point. I guess we met…when we were meant to meet.”

“What did I tell you? Destiny.” Theron tossed her an impish grin before draining the last of the caf.

T’Lara rolled her eyes as she placed her mug in the dirty bin, “I guess I’d better go see what Dr. Ogg-bur----the Hutt wants. Something about recruiting?”

“Yeah, a Gand on Zakuul, I think I heard him mention before you arrived. Have fun. I’ll catch up to you later.”

“If I don’t catch up to you first”, she grinned as she spun on her heel and strode towards the Hutt’s lab, Theron’s quiet chuckle following in her wake.


	9. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Major Malavai Quinn meets with the Alliance Commander on Iokath, she's the last person he expected to see again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief jumping out-of-order with this...
> 
> This quick ficlet was inspired by a funny little glitch in my Iokath playthrough with T'Lara. When looking at Quinn's companion sheet, it reads "Quinn reunited with you on Iokath, but you chose to go your separate ways." Obviously, this is meant to show up to a Sith Warrior who romanced him, but as T'Lara is a Smuggler and supposedly never encountered him before, it didn't make sense. So...I decided to have it make sense and come up with some reason her encounter with him on Iokath was a "reunion".
> 
> In this fic, I'm taking liberties with the game storyline in a few ways. The Numen Brock rescue plan, for one, was changed. Also, in this timeline, the Sith Warrior shows up after T'Lara's visit (as opposed to the game storyline where the SW's visit takes place long before the Smuggler ever arrives on Balmorra). And the romanced Sith Warrior does not board Marr's ship to eventually become the Outlander, but instead is the "last Sith standing" to become the Empress instead of Acina. So, Quinn's little recollection gets even more awkward with the imminent arrival of his wife.

“Well, well, ‘Major’ Quinn now is it? Managed a promotion or two, I see. Nice uniform….though I rather preferred your…other look.” T’Lara couldn’t help but grin crookedly as the dark-haired Imperial looked quite taken aback at her rather...unorthodox greeting. She could almost feel the waves of curiosity radiating off of Lana and Theron behind her.

The Major’s pale skin started to take on a rather reddish flush as recognition began to dawn on him. “You!? You’re….you should still be languishing in Imperial prison! Not…”

“Leading the most powerful Alliance in the galaxy? I know…I can’t help but actually agree with you on that. But...here we are! You were saying something about the Empress wanting to speak with me?”

_\----------------_

After the dust had settled, the Major and Empress both having been none too pleased that T’Lara had opted to side with the Republic, she led Theron out towards the battlefront. Unable to keep silent a moment longer, he finally inquired, “So, what was _that_ all about?”

“Oh, the Major? It’s actually quite a funny story. We ran into each other ages ago on Balmorra...”

\---------------------

_About seven years ago…_

T’Lara silently cursed Numen Brock for what was probably the hundredth time or so as she skulked through the dimly-lit alleyways of Sobrik. _Damn Twi’lek just had to go and get himself captured and tossed into some secret Imperial prison. If he wasn’t so frelling handsome and just so…willing…I’d blow this place and let him rot. And damn that droid of his for suggesting that we find it by letting someone get captured while wearing a tracker. Figures that someone had to be me…_

T’Lara had briefly entertained the idea of letting someone else in her crew do the dirty work, but Corso was so annoyingly gung-ho “For the Republic!” that they’d probably just shoot him out-of-hand rather than tossing him into prison. Risha….well, can’t risk the heir to the Dubrillion throne getting into Imperial hands. Besides, she’d probably charm some sort of deal out of the Imperials to help her get her throne back. T’Lara wouldn’t put it past her, despite the woman’s constant attempts at girl-bonding with her. Sending in Bowdarr might have worked for the original plan outlined by Sixer, but T’Lara had an alternate one of her own that she hoped would avoid the whole ordeal of being captured.

 _Now, just to find the right one…_ she thought as she darted into the shadows of an office door.

“Lt. Quinn, Logistics OIC”, a grin spread over her lips as she read the nameplate. “Jackpot.” At this time of night, there shouldn’t be anyone there and, from what she knew of the military, logistics was one of those posts where they tossed people who weren’t good for much else. So this guy was probably some lowly bean-counter who wouldn’t put up much of a fight even if she did happen to run into him. And, she could put her other plan in motion as well: slice the computer to try and locate the prison without getting herself captured. _It shouldn’t be too hard to trace supplies sent there….and there might even be some bonus information I can use. Maybe some tasty stashes I can fence._

She waited for a patrol droid to clank past before slicing the door controls and slipping into the darkened office as soon as the doors parted with a hiss. It only took a moment to take in the layout of the office: the main area was dominated by two conference tables and a scattering of supply crates. From the far corner, she could make out the glow of a computer terminal. There was also a side room, shrouded in darkness aside from a similar glow. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the faint outlines of a couch, table, and shelving holding personal effects. _Rot…I have to pick the one with his living quarters attached to his office. Here’s to hoping he’s a deep sleeper,_ she thought irritably as she tiptoed quietly to the terminal in the main room.

T’Lara had just managed to start the spike running its search program when a heavily-accented Imperial voice spoke up behind her. “Hands up and back away from the computer…now.”

 _Frell,_ she cursed inwardly as she slowly complied, her mind racing with options. _Okay, this guy’s probably some functionary, barely knows which end of a gun to hold. Shouldn’t be too hard to catch him off-guard and…_ As she turned around to face the man, her thoughts abruptly trailed off…as she was the one caught off-guard.

He honestly looked like an advertisement for the model Imperial officer: upright bearing, jet-black hair only slightly mused from sleep, piercing blue eyes that stared her down as unwaveringly as the deadly-looking pistol held firmly in one hand aimed straight at her chest. The only thing missing was the uniform…and she was not complaining about that at all. Having been awoken from sleep, the man was clad in only a pair of what was probably regulation grey sleep pants, and it was quite obvious that he worked out much more than the average logistics officer. He was…well, had T’Lara known there were such specimens serving in the Imperial Army, she would’ve gladly changed her alliance in a heartbeat.

“Umm…hail to the Emperor?.” For a moment, she had actually lost her train of thought as her gaze took him in.

“You’re not Imperial.” He stated simply.

“What gave it away? The green skin or the lack of a posh accent?” She teased, consciously raising her hands slightly higher to expose a few more inches of bare midriff, adjusting her posture subtly to something a bit more…alluring.

He seemed unimpressed, his lips curling into a disdainful smirk, “Republic alien scum.”

T’Lara frowned, adopting a slightly over-exaggerated pout, “Hey now….no need to be insulting. Alien, well yes, to you I guess. Republic….well, sort of, but not really. It’s complicated. If it wasn’t for that whole ‘alien scum’ attitude you all have, I might have joined the Empire.” She let her gaze roam over his bare chest appraisingly, “You never know what might happen if you just…broaden your horizons a bit.”

The Lieutenant seemed unimpressed, though she could detect the faintest hint of a flush rising along his neck as he gestured her over to one of the conference tables with a wave of his pistol. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, that’s something of a long, complicated story. And my arms are starting to get tired. Do you think that I could…?” She raised a brow inquiringly at him as she started to slowly lower her arms.

“Wait.” He stepped forward and, with the muzzle still trained squarely at her chest, slipped her pistols from their holsters and placed them on the far end of the table, out of her reach.

She noticed his gaze lingering on one of the two weapons for a moment, “SoroSuub SSK heavy blaster. Gift from one of my crew.”

His gaze snapped back to her and she once again couldn’t help but admire the blueness of his eyes. It was a shade she’d never seen before…even in other humans. “Your crew? So you’re not alone?”

“Well, yes…and no. I’m alone here…obviously. None of them are skulking around in the shadows.” She slowly lowered her arms to gesture around the darkened office, as her voice dropped to a sultry purr, “It’s just you and me. So if there was anything else you might want to….remove from me…no one else will know. I mean, maybe you should strip-search me. I could be hiding a weapon anywhere.” She closed the distance between them until the muzzle of his gun was pressed squarely between her breasts.

She felt it waver ever-so-slightly as he swallowed hard, the flush on his neck deepening and rising to color his cheeks. Allowing herself a brief glimpse downward, she noticed that she had apparently stirred him a bit more than he was letting on, the thin fabric of the sleep pants hiding very little from her view.

But as soon as she had thought she had snared him, the pistol snapped up to catch her in the temple with the butt of the grip. Stars swam in her view as his voice echoed through the ringing in her ears, “I’d rather drink a Hutt’s bath water.”

“Ooowww…” she moaned, sinking to her knees, as she fought to retain consciousness. “That was rude…”

His next words came from across the room, obviously not addressed to her. “Corporal, I have an intruder in my office. Send a team to collect her to Camp Vigil…and throw away the key.”

Through the pain, T’Lara allowed herself the faintest of ironic smiles. _Well, looks like it’s Plan A, after all._

She didn’t resist as a pair of soldiers hoisted her to her feet and bound her wrists together. But as she was drug out, she threw a seductive smile over her shoulder to the Lieutenant, “Sweet dreams, Quinn…”

\------------------

“Well, I’m assuming you escaped out of there, of course?” Theron looked suitably impressed as she finished her story.

“Of course…or I wouldn’t be here, silly. The tracker plan worked like a charm. I escaped, got our people out, and blew the place to hell”, she punched him playfully in the arm as they strode through the expansive landscape of Iokath on their way to where the Empire was now attacking their Republic allies.

“Very nice. I suppose that explains his….reaction…when he saw you. I was almost expecting you to tell me that he had been one of your ‘flings’.”

She burst into laughter and shook her head, “No. Not that it was from lack of trying, of course. I can only hope that the poor man was blessed with some…interesting….dreams afterwards….”

\---------------------------

Major Malavai Quinn stared at the holodisplay of the Iokath schematics for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour, trying to focus his concentration on the battle strategies he had laid out with the Empress. The Sith ruler was due to land at any minute and he could not afford to allow his attention to waver from their goal. But, he kept finding his thoughts drifting to the Mirialan Alliance Commander. Her intrusion all those years back on Balmorra had barely been a blip on the radar of his life, the incident itself quickly shelved away in his mind. But the thoughts that had come after she had been hauled off to prison…those had not faded so easily. Knocking her senseless and calling in the guards had been the only things keeping him from acting on them.

_Hands tearing at her clothes, fingers digging into emerald flesh, pushing her onto the conference table and plowing into her until her screams echoed through the office space…_

Quinn shook his head violently to try and purge the thoughts from his head as he crossed to grab another cup of caf from the dispenser. It was going to be a long day. He was actually thankful that she had allied with the Republic. It made things much easier to not have to have dealings with her except across the battlefield.

“Major Quinn, the Empress is on approach.” The voice of one of the many technicians staffing the Spire called out.

“Very good, I shall meet her at the landing pad.” Downing the caf in one quick swig, he slammed a durasteel wall around his thoughts. _It would not do to have her sense my distraction….especially of this nature._ His composure restored, he departed to meet his Empress...and wife.


	10. A Night to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron surprises T'Lara with a party she won't soon forget...
> 
> (Jumping out of order here with a wee bit of fluff and fun. After the angst and feels of my last DA:O chapter, I needed to write something fun, so I took a vote on Twitter. T'Lara and Theron won, and I've honestly been sitting on this idea for awhile now. This will probably be continued...for more fluff and maybe a wee bit of NSFW. Enjoy!)

“You act as though you’ve never been to a party before!”

Theron’s voice was muffled behind the bulky Zakuulan Knight helmet, but his amusement was plainly obvious as he and T’Lara wound their way through the impeccably-dressed party guests attending Empress Vaylin’s celebration.

The Mirialan smuggler-turned-Alliance-Commander laughed and fervently wished she could scratch a pesky itch upon her nose as her gaze was once more attracted by yet another plate of hors d’ourves and exotic drinks that they passed by.

“You know me better than that! I’ve been to…and held…some of the best parties on Nar Shaddaa. Just nothing like this!” Theron couldn’t see, but rather could sense the sulky pout hidden behind her matching helmet, “You all got my hopes up by telling me we were going to crash an Imperial Ball and here I’m thinking I’m going to get all dolled up and sweep into the ball with you as my arm candy...but no, I’m surrounded by all of this luxury while I’m stuck in this sweaty gold-plated tin can!”

Theron leaned in to murmur quietly over the din of the party, “I suppose I’ll have to find a way to make this up to you, then.”

“I can think of a few ways”, she purred in return before they resumed their “patrol” around the palace.

 _Oh, so can I…_ Theron mused, for once thankful that the helmet hid the devious smile that curled his lips.

\-----------------------------

Six months later…

“You’re sure you can pull this off? Without her finding out?” Theron fixed his best “SIS interrogator” scowl upon his features as he stared down the scrawny Zakuulan.

Seemingly unfazed, Indo Zal placed a hand upon his heart and sighed dramatically, “My dear Theron, between my extensive party-planning expertise and your vast talent for…clandestine affairs, this will be the magnum opus of surprise parties, rest assured.”

Theron honestly didn’t know how they managed it; the sheer number of people involved raised the chances of discovery exponentially. But even notorious blabbermouths like Tora and Gault managed to latch onto the thrill of secrecy somehow and were able to not let anything slip leading up to the event.

T’Lara had this sneaking suspicion something was going on, but couldn’t even begin to place her finger on what it was. Since the day she had taken the Eternal Throne and defeated Valkorian, the days had been a strange mixture of endless work mingled with celebration. It was difficult to know what the next day would bring now that the Alliance’s focus had shifted from bringing down the Eternal Empire to building and maintaining their own growing faction while keeping the Republic and Empire somewhat placated.

“I have some reports to take care of, but….I left something for you in your quarters”, Theron had said with the faintest hint of mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes before he had slipped away towards the War Room.

 _What is he up to?_ She couldn’t help but wonder even as she stepped into the dimly-lit room. She could make out the shape of something draped upon her bed…something of a silky black and red fabric. _It’s too big to be slinky lingerie_ , she mused as she approached the bed, then drew in a sharp intake of breath as she realized exactly what it was.

 _Stars….it’s beautiful,_ was all she could manage as her gaze took in the elegant dress before landing upon a small note left upon it. Her lips curved upward into a smile as she recognized Theron’s neat handwriting:

_You are cordially invited to a formal celebration honoring the Alliance Commander (yes, you) taking place in the cantina at 1900 hours. Your escort (that’s me) will arrive to take you there at 1855._

_PS: I told you I’d make it up to you._

_Love, Theron_

Unable to conceal a girlish squeal of utter delight, she glanced at the chrono. _1700….two hours to get ready._ To be honest, she bemoaned having that much time. She wanted to just throw the dress on and go _now_. But at least a turn in the refresher wouldn’t go amiss and she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do with her hair. She’d never worn it any other way except in its usual messy ponytail or just hanging loose.

Almost as soon as she had stepped from the refresher, the door chime rang. It was too early for Theron to show, so she poked her head around the door to call out “Come in?”

She wasn’t sure who to expect, but she certainly was taken by surprise as Indo Zal and a small retinue of men and women, all bearing various portable cases came sweeping into the room.

“Are you ready for your transformation?” The thin blonde Zakuulan asked with a sweeping bow in her direction. Before she could get a word out, the others practically swarmed her, all chattering excitedly to each other with various ideas about makeup, hair and ‘emphasizing those lovely tattoos’.

\--------------

1855 hours

T’Lara paced the room, her stomach in knots. She wished that there was some way to keep herself from sweating with nervousness. It wouldn’t do to ruin all the hard work Indo’s people had done over the past hour and a half. She’d faced down countless enemies, defeated the Sith Emperor, and been through situations that would break most people, but she couldn’t remember ever being as anxious about any of them as she was right now.

When she thought she couldn’t bear the suspense another second, the door chime finally rang.

“C—come in!”

The door slid open to admit Theron, who she found looked nearly as nervous as she did…but…

“Stars…you look…”

“Oh…wow…”

Both trailed off and just stood and gaped at one another for several long seconds. T’Lara attempted not to fidget with the curls now framing her face and failed miserably as she took in the sight of Theron dressed in a well-tailored formal suit that echoed the lines and colors of his once-favorite jacket. The usual spiked pompadour had been tamed down into a rather striking slicked-back style and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was just as nervous as she was by the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck.

Honestly, Theron was utterly starstruck at her beauty. He had done what was probably the most difficult thing about the whole affair and left T’Lara’s transformation completely in the hands of Indo and his team of experts. The Zakuulan “Magistrate of Revelry” had reassured him that everything would be done to ensure this was a night to remember…and he had more than delivered.

The dress of black shimmersilk clung to her lithe form and swept out into a flowing skirt that barely grazed the floor. It was accented with swirling abstract embroidery in a deep crimson that was also echoed in the lace-like collar that encircled her throat and slid over her shoulder to leave one arm bare, while the other was sheathed in black silk. T’Lara had initially been leery of wearing such a sophisticated dress (she was more at home in worn leather and comfortable boots), but it had proven to be just as practical as it was stunning: it was soft, comfortable and she found she could move almost as well in it as her usual casual attire. And, by Theron’s gaping reaction, even it hadn’t been, it would have been worth it.

She finally broke their stunned silence by striding to his side to take his arm. “The party’s going to be over if we just stand around here gawking at each other all night, you know.”

“I just…” Theron trailed off, shaking his head mutely as he drank her in. “You’re right. We should…”

“You look wonderful”, she said as she leaned up to gently kiss him on the cheek.

“And you look….absolutely stunning…” He whispered as he guided her down the hallway to the elevator. He silently wished they had a more…elegant venue to hold this in than the cantina, but Indo had declared that he was more than up to the challenge.

Indeed it seemed that he was, because as soon as they stepped from the elevator, they found the main floor of the base completely transformed. It seemed as though every metal surface had been scrubbed and polished to a gleaming perfection. Colorful silken banners swayed in the gentle breeze and the floor had been covered with soft ornate rugs to cover the usual dirty deckplates. Music drifted in from the cantina…not the usual raucous bar tunes, but the lilting strains of a symphony.

As they paused in the doorway to the cantina, Indo cleared his throat loudly and spoke to the crowd gathered:

“Announcing Her Imperial Highness, the Alliance Commander and Empress of the Eternal Empire, T’Lara Kryn, escorted by the Imperial Consort and Director of Alliance Operations, Theron Shan!”

The entire room went silent as T’Lara shot Theron a wide-eyed look of shock while he pierced Indo with a withering glare before looking back at her apologetically, “I did _not_ tell him to say that!”

“Loosen up, you two…I’m just having some fun”, the Zakuulan said with an impish grin. “It’s just for tonight. You wanted an Imperial Ball, so now you have one…your Majesty.” Ignoring the bemused, yet embarrassed looks from Theron and T’Lara, he swept into a bow before them while the entire cantina erupted in applause.

“Well, I guess you’re not the only one who’s being surprised tonight”, Theron murmured to her as they stepped into the cantina.

Indeed, just the sheer fact that everyone in the Alliance had apparently turned out for the party…and were all dressed to the nines for the evening was quite a sight in itself. Had it not been for her distinctive blue hair, Tora would have been completely unrecognizable in a shimmering silver dress, her hair piled onto her head in an elaborate updo. Even Doctor Oggurobb had opted to adorn his enormous form with a few simple chains of gold and deep blue silk. The droids were all polished and even the usually-uptight Beywan and Aric both looked rather dashing, though slightly out-of-their-element, having traded their armor for formalwear.

T’Lara simply gazed around the room in stunned amazement before turning to Theron, “You planned all of this?”

“Well, the idea was mine”, he said as he guided her through the crowd, “but Indo did most of the legwork. My job was mostly keeping everything under wraps so that you wouldn’t find out about it. It’s not quite the Zakuulan Imperial Palace, but I was hoping…well, that maybe we could try to come close since you weren’t really able to enjoy that party like you had hoped.”

“Oh Theron…that’s just…” Her voice trailed off as a server paused near her, bearing a platter of exotic-looking drinks. “Oooo…Zakuulan alcohol!” She exclaimed excitedly as she plucked a glass from the platter, then after a brief moment of thought, nabbed a second glass and passed it to Theron.

“To you…me….this…everything! A night to remember!” She raised her glass to him with a smile.

Lifting his glass to touch hers, he quietly echoed, “Definitely a night to remember…”

 (To be continued...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for T'Lara's dress (just with less lace and more Star-Warsy):
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	11. A Night to Remember Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron surprises T'Lara by throwing a party, but what happens after is what they will both remember...

“I honestly can’t believe you’re still standing after all of that, let alone dancing”, Theron said with a chuckle as they fell rather unceremoniously onto one of the cantina’s private lounges, his arm draping across her shoulders.

“I ate just as much as I drank! And I’m not a lightweight like you”, she grinned, poking him playfully in the chest. Her demeanor turned thoughtful for a moment as she settled into his embrace, “Though my decision to try at least one of everything on the buffet was probably not the best idea. I feel like I’m about to pop right out of this dress.”

“I’ll pop you right out of that dress”, he purred into her ear, nuzzling her neck affectionately.

T’Lara shivered at his breath tickling her skin, her eyes closing, “Mmmm…go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”

“We should probably…go back to…your quarters”, he whispered in between trailing teasing nibbles down her neck.

T’Lara twined her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, murmuring, “You’re a horrible tease, Theron Shan.”

“I know”, he reluctantly pulled away and rose to his feet, offering her a hand, a sly smile tugging at his lips, “But you love it.”

“That I do”, she replied as she rose to her feet, suddenly swaying slightly as the room began to tilt precariously under her. “Whoa…”

“What was that you were saying about not being a lightweight?” Theron teased as he placed a hand on her waist to help stabilize her.

“Oh hush”, she grumbled as he led her from the cantina, pausing to toss a sly grin and thumbs-up towards Lana, who was looking radiant in a dress of emerald green and snuggled up against Koth who merely offered the pair a jaunty salute before turning back to the blonde-haired Sith.

“It’s about damn time”, Theron echoed her own thoughts as they left the cantina. “Those two have been fighting back their feelings for each other since the first day Lana introduced me to him.”

T’Lara chuckled as they stepped onto the elevator, “Rather like a certain SIS agent and smuggler all those years ago?”

“Ha!” Theron released a derisive snort, “What are you talking about? You practically jumped me the first time we met!”

“I most certainly did not!” She retorted indignantly as the elevator descended to the lower levels, depositing them into the War Room.

“You were undressing me with your eyes. I could tell”, he said with a sly grin.

“I’ll undress you with more than my eyes, you silly man!” She said and gave him a playful shove, sending him stumbling into the water swirling beneath the raised platform dominating the room.

“Oh great, now I’m all wet!” Theron grumbled, attempting to shake some of the water from his once-carefully-pressed pants.

T’Lara seemed to not even hear him as she began circling around the room, eyes wide, “How did I never notice this was even here?!”

Theron sat on the edge of the platform, pulling off his boots with a scowl, “What?”

“We have a swimming pool! Right under our feet!” With a delighted giggle, she ran to the opposite end of the platform where there was an opening into the pool of water below, then began tugging at the dress.

“What are you doing?!” Theron asked incredulously. He didn’t mind the view he was getting, but if anyone happened to walk in…

“Going swimming, you silly goof!” Flinging the dress aside, she dove under the platform with a splash, laughter echoing through the cavernous space.

Overwhelmed with curiosity, Theron stood and peered down through the raised deckplates to where she could be seen lazily paddling through the water beneath.

Noticing his presence above her, she grinned and rose slightly from the water…just enough to give him a rather enticing view of her breasts. “You should come join me…”

Glancing about warily, Theron made his way around to the opening in the platform and knelt down to look inside. “You never knew this was here, really?”

“No”, she said as she swam towards him, “And now I’m a bit miffed that you knew about it all along and never told me. Now take your clothes off and get your mad ass in this pool.”

Realizing that she would never let him say no, he quickly divested himself of the suit, laying it neatly beside her dress, and slid through the opening into the water. With a girlish giggle, she floated over to him and twined her arms around his neck, “Isn’t this nice?”

His eyes widened as he slid his arms around her waist to pull her close and realized that she was completely naked, while he had opted only to strip down to his underwear. “You’re…ummm….”

“Prepared?” She finished with a sly grin as she trailed her fingers along his shoulders, “Somehow I had this feeling that we might not make it to my quarters.” With that, she sealed her lips to his, her fingers sliding down to tug at the waistband of his underwear.

“You sure you want to….here?” Even though the hour was late and the party had mostly dispersed by the time they had left, he still couldn’t help but worry that someone might happen upon them. The War Room was a rather central area of the base.

“Yes”, she said with a sudden fierceness, jerking his underwear down with a swift motion. “Right here…right now.” She paddled back, pulling him with her until her back rested against the edge of the water and wrapped her legs about his hips.

Kicking the offending garment away, Theron locked his gaze onto hers as he slowly drove himself into her, eliciting a whimpering moan of delight from her parted lips. She clutched him tightly as their movements sent the water gently splashing between them. All the hours of careful preparation were undone in seconds as her meticulously-coiffed hair swirled through the water. He found her just as beautiful without the styling, the makeup, the elegant dress…she was a different creature, just as lovely, sensual and delightful, and he had fallen for her in this, her true, honest state.

There was something basic, primal about it all….the hard stone beneath them, the water lapping against their skin, their breathless gasps echoing through the space. Had it not been for the metal grating above and the artificial lighting filtering through it, one could almost imagine it as an isolated grotto within a vast cavern.

The water was cool, but the heat of their entwined bodies made it irrelevant as they thrust and arched against one another, fingertips and lips exploring every inch of one another. Theron grasped her wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head as their movements grew ever more urgent until, with one last sharp thrust, he sent them both tumbling over the edge, their groaning cries echoing through the chamber.

As Theron released her wrists, T’Lara wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the sensation of their water-drenched flesh. A smile grew upon her lips as he nuzzled her neck, the stubble scratching lightly against her skin. “Definitely…a night to remember”, she whispered in his ear.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it”, he sighed contentedly, “We should probably get dressed….get back to your quarters.”

“Mmm…probably. It might be a bit awkward if we were still here in the morning.” She released a faint giggle, “Though it might be fun to see how long it would take for anyone to notice we were down here.”

“The discarded clothing might give it away”, he replied with a chuckle as he reluctantly disengaged himself from her embrace, his gaze still taking in her naked form.

“Hmm…you have a point.” Languidly, she brushed past him, pausing to crush her lips to his in an ardent kiss before teasingly breaking away to swim back towards the opening. He followed in her wake and just as they had emerged back into the War Room itself, they were greeted with a shrill wolf-whistle and the sound of running feet.

“Oh shi….!” They both nearly cursed as one, hands scrambling to clutch their discarded clothes as they peered over the platform to find the source of the sounds, but there was no one to be seen.

“Who do you think that could have been?” T’Lara asked as she quickly tugged the dress back on haphazardly.

“I don’t know…but when I find out”, Theron growled as he awkwardly attempted to pull the fitted suit back on over his wet skin. “I’ll pull up the surveillance in the morning…” He trailed off with a quiet curse under his breath. “And make sure that it’s wiped from the memory banks…permanently…”

T’Lara assisted him in getting him back into a somewhat-decent state of dress once more and chuckled, “Oh? Are you sure you don’t want to keep a personal copy? For…mmm…future use?”

“You are a wicked, wicked woman”, he replied, leaning in to mold his lips to hers in a brief, yet fervent kiss. He gathered up his boots, then turned, bending over to wrap his free arm around her waist, lifting her from her feet to sling her over his shoulder.

“Theron!” She yelled indignantly, “What are you doing?!”

“Oh…this night is far from over…” He grinned as he carried her back to her quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of my little fluff/romance piece. I had ideas, but then logged on to wander about the base on Odessen...and discovered the "swimming pool" in the War Room. So, this little bit sort of came into being.


	12. Stripped Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still remember the look on your face  
> Lit through the darkness at 1:58  
> The words that you whispered  
> For just us to know  
> You told me you loved me  
> So why did you go away?  
> Away  
> But now I'll go sit on the floor  
> Wearing your clothes  
> All that I know is  
> I don't know how to be something you miss  
> I never thought we'd have a last kiss  
> Never imagined we'd end like this  
> Your name, forever the name on my lips  
> \--"Last Kiss" by Taylor Swift
> 
> The one person T'Lara had dared to trust enough to love had betrayed her. What was left now?
> 
> (Post-Umbara)

_“I would do anything to protect you…” Whispered words. The brush of soft lips against hers._

The sound of shattering glass, shards nicking the back of her neck. Wind tugging at her hair…

_Fingers caressing her cheek reassuringly…_

_“You know I would never do anything like that to you…”_

Hazel eyes boring into her over the barrel of the blaster. Another snap-crack and the air between them is filled with humming red energy.

_“You’re always right. I’m crazy about you…”_

Manic pacing, stalking, words snarled…spat…at her from behind the force screen…

“The Alliance has outgrown you. Now it’s rotting from within and you’ve become a symbol of oppression.”

_Rain falling, tapping out a steady rhythm against the metal shell of the shuttle as bodies entwine, exploring one another for the first time…_

“30 seconds to impact. This is goodbye…”

Explosions shake the ground. Her body spasms. Once more the crash of broken glass…this time closer, more real.

_A dream…it was all just a…_

“Captain!”

Corso’s voice dragging her to a reluctant consciousness. Hand raising to cradle a head jammed with matted wampa hair…or beaten with a blaster butt until nothing left but bones and brain and…

 _Something’s different._ Her fingers encounter hastily-razored strands, shorter than she usually keeps it. Other hand clutched tight around…a flimplast printout.

Her gut twists, some instinct telling her that if she reads it, this will all be real. The nightmare, the loss…but she can’t stop her eyes from falling on the last few lines. They are not new to her. She’s read them a hundred…thousand times…each accompanied by a shot of whatever liquor she managed to find.

**“I don’t expect you to understand. But, however this ends, I just want you to know that I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. And I always will.”**

The pain it twists like a blade in her gut, just as fresh and sharp as the first time she read those words. Something inside her collapses, her body folding upon itself to roll off the table upon which she had passed out…hours, days ago?...she didn’t know anymore. Any sense of time had fled the moment Lana had collapsed on the deckplates in front of her, stunned by a bolt from Theron’s own blaster. Since then, T’Lara’s life had turned into a miasma of numbness and sorrow.

She could barely feel Corso’s arms wrapping tightly around her. For the first time in years, she actually welcomed it. She didn’t care anymore about what he might still feel about her…or what he expected…he was a shoulder to cry on. A friend. Someone who didn’t look on her with pity or expect her to seek revenge on the one man in the galaxy she had ever trusted enough to love.

A fresh wave of tears stream down her cheeks, her body wracked with sobs as she clings to him, the same words she’s repeated over and over again like a litany, once again wrenching themselves from her lips, “Why?! He promised…he said… I thought…”

But again, words failed, drowned by tears she wondered if she would ever run out of. Extricating herself from his arms, she gropes for one of the bottles on the table…sheer, blind instinct. It had been her routine since she had arrived back at Nar Shaddaa. She couldn’t stand the looks, the whispers that followed everywhere in her wake back on Odessen. So she had come here…to drown her sorrows, to just disappear…to be free of the title of “Alliance Commander” that she had never wanted. To be who and what she truly was right now: a broken, empty shell, torn apart by the man she had loved.

“No”, a gentle tugging at her hand accompanied the Mantllian accent. T’Lara wanted to strike out, yell, curse, ask him how dare he tell her what to do…but she couldn’t. She no longer had the energy…or even desire to. She started to sink back into his arms when her body spasmed again…an all-too-familiar feeling clenching in her gut.

She managed to push away from Corso just in time to turn and empty the contents of her stomach (and what felt like every other organ as well) onto the floor. Corso winced as a bit spattered onto his boots, but gathered her back into his arms once she was done, and just held her as she shook with dry, sobbing wretches.

 _My poor Captain…_ He thought sadly as he stroked her hastily-cropped black hair. He still loved her, he couldn’t deny that. And a part of him still hated Theron for not only causing her this much pain, but for being the person Corso had hoped to be: the one who had earned all of her love and devotion. But over the years, he’d come to terms with everything and decided that as long as she was happy, that was all that really mattered. Even if it was with another man…a man who had just tried to kill her and turned her into this miserable bundle of despair that he held in his arms.

After a couple of minutes, she took a deep, shaky breath. Somehow, she felt completely drained, yet energized. As though all of the pain, sorrow, and despair had been purged…along with the several litres of alcohol.

Her nose wrinkled as the combined stench of vomit, alcohol, and her own unwashed body smacked her full on. “I…need a shower…”, she managed to croak out hoarsely as she began to pull away.

Corso nodded and helped her climb to her feet. “Take what time you need, I’ll be here. The droids and I will get everything cleaned up.”

She managed a shaky smile, gratitude filling her bloodshot eyes, “Thanks Corso…for everything.”

“Anytime, T’Lara…”

His gaze followed her as she managed to stagger into her quarters, and lingered for a moment longer as the door closed behind her. Huffing a sigh that was part affection and part regret, he signaled the cleaning droids and began working on clearing out the vast array of empty bottles littering the room.

\-------------------------------------

An hour passed…then two. Corso began to worry as he eyed the closed door to her quarters. The moment he decided that he probably should make sure she was okay, the door slid quietly open and he couldn’t help but take in a sharp breath of surprise.

She had…transformed. Gone was the frivolous former-smuggler who always wore a crooked smile and whose eyes always sparkled with some secret amusement. No longer was her lithe form clad in the revealing crimson and black leather that hugged every curve and enticed all-too-many men in what might lie beneath it.

There was now a hardness in her eyes, a set to her jaw, and a firm determination in her bearing. She had always been confident…most would say overly-so…but this was different, not the casual recklessness he had always seen before. She had traded the skin-tight leathers for a simple black utilitarian jumpsuit topped with a loose cowl of light grey. Her now-short black hair was tousled casually about her face, lending her an air of maturity that the messy ponytail she had worn it in before had never really conveyed.

She did not seem to even register his shocked expression at her new appearance but merely rested her hands upon the grips of her twin pistols, her voice rough, but confident.

“Let’s go find Theron…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finally knuckled down and put T'Lara through Umbara and Copero. I'd intended to wait until after 5.9 came out, but I honestly needed a kick in the pants for my writing and putting my characters through the emotional wringer seems to always work.  
> I don't think I've cried so much playing this game as I did while putting her through this. Knowing everything about her and her background, and her relationship with Theron made this "betrayal" a thousand times harder than with any other character I've put through it. I have a hard time sometimes conveying that emotion in my writing...but I hope that it came through a bit here. I'll admit to shedding more tears while writing this.  
> I have a few more chapters rattling around in my head relating to the whole "Traitor" storyline (at least one from Theron's POV) and will be working on trying to get them out before 5.9.  
> Enjoy! Comments, kudos, suggestions, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	13. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short, yet sweet post-"Nathema Conspiracy" blurb.  
> There be spoilers here.

“Just…marry me…please?”

T’Lara couldn’t help but grin as she remembered Theron’s proposal of mere minutes ago. There had been a tinge of almost-desperation in his voice, a pleading in his eyes, as he had stammered and stuttered nervously before blurting out the one question that she had been wanting forever to hear…without really realizing it until that moment.

 _We’re going to be married._ If anyone had asked her years ago, she would have scoffed at the idea. Corso had even tossed it out once at her as a last-ditch attempt to rope her into a life she had always said she never wanted. But now…she couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

After everything they had gone through, she didn’t want to ever let him out of her sight again. So, fingers entwined, they began walking the halls of the base, appraising the damage wrought by Zildrog before the machine god's destruction.

“You cut your hair”, Theron ventured appraisingly after they had ended their tour, returning to the familiar confines of her quarters.

T’Lara couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, since you cut yours…”

Theron only flinched slightly as he paused to let his fingers slide through one of the tousled black locks, “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks…”, she trailed off, lips pursed in faint discomfort. _Stars, I hope he’s not expecting me to say the same about his_ , she thought frantically. She would love him, no matter how he wore his hair, but the strange shaven rows circling his head just….did not suit him at all.

“I know, I know…I promise I’ll grow it out”, he replied with a chuckle, noticing the way she was nervously chewing her lip. “It was…a phase.”

“One that we both went through, apparently”, she retorted with a crooked smirk. “Though you owe me an entire cantina’s worth of good liquor for mine.”

Theron winced visibly, “Sorry…can’t say I didn’t put away quite a bit myself. Just to try to keep the nightmares away…” He trailed off with a sigh, “Didn’t work.”

“It never does”, she whispered, drawing him into a tight embrace. “Believe me, I tried…so many times…ever since Ziost. The only thing that ever kept them away…was you.”

“I promise, I won’t ever leave you like that again”, he murmured against her neck. “No more nightmares…for either of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ya'll know, I usually don't/can't write anything short. But this just sort of spilled out of my brain and I honestly didn't want to take it any farther than I did. I was tempted to go onto a little FTB, but....I just like it ending where it does. For now, at least. I'll definitely write more as the muse hits me. There was lots to cover in that FP and lots of emotions. This particular bit...my brain just insisted that it be written now.


	14. Entangled Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron makes a promise to T'Lara...one that ends up giving hope when there once was none.  
> (Takes place during KotFE, then briefly in Copero)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally broke down and commissioned my first fan-art of T'Lara and Theron. I wanted it to be a cute, playful, yet romantic scene and Alston delivered! (You can find them [here](http://alstonwiggles.tumblr.com/post/171662513934/image-description-2-images-the-first) )  
> So, I just had to write something to provide some story to this little scene and decided to tie this playful, romantic interlude into the whole "Traitor" storyline.  
> So now, we have a tale of Theron's hair. Enjoy! :-D

Theron Shan collapsed with a weary sigh upon one of the cargo crates placed haphazardly in the shuttle’s bay.

“You were not kidding when you said this was going to be a challenge!”

T’Lara chuckled quietly as she slid up behind him, leaning in to rest her arms lightly upon his shoulders.

“Didn’t I tell you after the very first time you sent me into one of these deathtraps while you sat up here all cozy with Miot?”

A lopsided smile tugged at Theron’s lips, his eyes closing, as the Mirialan woman’s fingers idly trailed through his sweat-damp hair, “Yes…and that’s why I decided to come along this time. Didn’t figure it was fair…besides”, his voice dropped into a quiet murmur, “you can’t imagine how hard it is to keep sending you off and not knowing if you’re even coming back.”

“I’ll always come back, Theron”, with a quick glance towards the cockpit, she leaned in to place a feathery kiss upon his ear, sending a ripple down his spine. “Five years in carbonite didn’t stop me, all of Arcann and Vaylin’s troops didn’t stop me. As long as you’re here, I’ll always find a way.”

Theron tilted his head back slightly to look up into her eyes, “That’s…well…ditto for me.” A flush rose up his neck, both at her sentiment and his own bumbling inability to voice his feelings.

T’Lara tousled his hair playfully with a laugh, “Oh, Theron, you always know what to say!”

“Yeah, I’m a paragon of romantic sentiment”, he retorted sarcastically before releasing a contented sigh as her fingers one more slid through his hair. “But, if it keeps you doing that, I’ll not ever stop.”

“Oh, this?” Another shiver raced down Theron’s back as her gloved fingers tickled at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Um…yes…..that.” It took every ounce of willpower for him not to turn and gather her in his arms right then and there.

“I love your hair. Don’t ever cut it.”

Theron blinked, canting his head curiously, “Ever? You want me to grow it out to my knees?”

“No, silly!” She giggled, giving him a playful thwap. “Just don’t cut it short. You know, all buzz-cut like that Imperial, Pierce…or some of the other soldiers running around.”

“Ugh…no, that’s not my style at all. If you ever see me with hair like that, you’ll know that I’ve gone totally over the bend…or been mind-hacked…or something…”

_One year later…._

T’Lara watched as the shuttle rose into the Copero sky, the regret evident even from this distance in Theron’s eyes. There had always been this niggling feeling that his “betrayal” was not what it seemed, and when she had caught that brief glimpse of him…and his new, rather hideous haircut…as he ran away from her once more, she was now totally convinced it was a sham.

A faint smile tugged at her lips even as the young Chiss man, Valss, moved into to cover Theron’s escape. _You had no other way to tell me…so you showed me. I will find a way back to you, Theron…just as I promised._


End file.
